


Coming Up Roses

by SuperFerret



Series: Coming Up Roses [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Light BDSM, Music, Older Woman/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Photography, Sexual Content, Spanking, Strip Tease, cross-dressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:12:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 36,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperFerret/pseuds/SuperFerret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of Bond and M getting together in every sense of the word!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> M struggles to come to terms with the loss of her husband prompting her first liaison with one Mr James Bond.

She fumbled in her purse and pulled out her phone: _Hare and Hounds. Lea Bridge Rd. Now._

M sat alone in the corner of the Hare and Hounds, not wanting to go home. She had just gotten off the phone with her daughter who had finalised the funeral arrangements for the coming Friday.

She didn’t think she cared. She didn’t think his passing would affect her at all. When she got the phone call all she said was “oh”. There was no breakdown into inconsolable tears, just numbness where she assumed her grief would be. 

She had a husband and a family because in those days that was what you did. An unmarried woman was defective by nature so it was only natural that she married herself off and pushed out a couple of kids. What wasn’t natural was the maternal instinct for mothering children and being a good wife. Her priority was always to her country and her family always came second to that. For some reason her family accepted that fact and they all continued to progress through life with minimal affection.

Now that her domestic life was completely over she felt a void in her heart that she hadn’t been aware of. Her greyed out husband made her feel human because if he loved her then there was something about her to love. There must be a heart beating inside of her worthy of attention. Without him as a status symbol she was the ice queen robot that led MI6 into battle. She was someone to fear and respect but it was all for the love of country, not for the love of her.

Her gin and tonic was untouched on the table in front of her. She had made it half way home from work before it got too difficult and she had told her driver that this was her destination. She had been inside just a handful of times, usually when Michael had some sort of work do there, but it all seemed so unfamiliar.

Her phone buzzed: _Be there in five._

She circled a finger around the rim of her glass. Why didn’t she miss him? Maybe she didn’t have a heart after all. He was a good man. He made breakfast for her any morning he could even if she had to get up in the early hours. Most women would never experience that kind of affection so that was his way of vying for her attention whilst he had the chance. Usually, she only heard from her daughters in a printed letter at Christmas that told her little Lucy had just started high school and Tom had just passed his driving test. It provided little comfort.

She felt completely numb and unable to feel. If she could feel remorse, guilt, pain, anything, then she might still be human. She picked up her drink and drank it all in one. The rush of alcohol wasn’t enough to sting her throat and absolve her shame. She balled her fist and dug her fingernails into her palm until four lines were shallowly carved into her skin. She couldn’t feel anything any more.

She wanted to escape into a world where none of this had happened and where she could forget who she was for an hour or two. She knew exactly who she could count on for that: a man who was as numb as she was only he made a living out of it.

“Good evening, Ma’am,” James sat down opposite her with his back straight and eyes alert. His overpriced suit looked so out of place in a hole like this but it gave him a look of power. He had no idea why he was there but she didn’t see any confusion on his face. He had simply obeyed. M looked into his eyes and took a breath.

“007. I need someone to aid every sexual whim of mine, lavish affection upon me and make me forget everything from the past few days,” he didn’t move a muscle. “Having directed many of your missions I know you are extremely well versed in such activities and you are to see to me without question.”

“Are you-“

“Without question,” she reiterated. “Take me back to yours or to a hotel, I don’t care where, but you will show me the same experience that is apparently worth dying for.”

She thought of all the people who had died as a consequence of their entanglements with him. They were all either very unlucky or perhaps the sex was so good that they died of exhaustion. She knew that they were just marks he had been ordered to manipulate but she wanted to believe that he had a liberating effect on people. At this moment in time she didn’t care what happened to her but she wanted to find out. 

James surveyed her for a moment and saw the rigid determination in her eyes. She always got what she wanted. She wondered if his hesitation was due to her age. She couldn’t remember ever asking him to seduce an older woman or maybe it was just because she was his boss. Had all those years of flirting really only been to irritate her or was he willing to make true on his promises?

He knew about her husband and he knew she needed this. If he wouldn’t help her then she would have to face her grief alone. If he didn’t say yes then she wouldn’t know what to do.

“Okay. Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The process begins.

“Here’s one key for you and one for your mother,” the young gentleman behind the counter slid two key cards across the counter. James glanced sideways at M who rolled her eyes back at him. “Room number 215.”

He paid no attention to M and continued to look at James. There was a familiar glint in this man’s eye that she had seen countless times before when people met this agent. “Take the lift to the second floor and it’s on your right,” he blushed. “It’s one of our finest suites.”

“Thank you for your help,” James pocketed both keys and the man gave him a cheeky smile.

“If there’s anything more I can do for you sir, don’t hesitate to call,” the man said. James chuckled and winked at him before steering M towards the lifts.

“Is no one resistant to your charms?” she commented.

“I always thought you were my kryptonite.”

He pushed the button to call the lift and then waited with his hands in his pockets. They entered in silence and she felt the awkward realisation of what she was doing. This was as unprofessional as it could possibly be and yet she found herself unwilling to turn around and scamper back to solitude. It may have been a little unorthodox but it might heal her wounds, make her feel more like a woman and less like a machine.

The corridor was empty. James led the way, fed the key card into the slot and held the door open for M to enter first. When he closed the door they both stood idly with their hands in their pockets, both unsure how to proceed. M removed her coat and laid it over the edge of a chair as James made his way towards her.

“Why don’t we sit down,” he suggested, “and just talk for a bit first.”

“I don’t have any words,” she replied feebly, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. She looked helplessly into his eyes willing him to see how lost she had become and hoping he would show her the way. 

“That’s okay, M.” He smiled at her. “I’ll start.” 

He held one of her hands with both of his. This small act warmed her and calmed her thoughts. “You look lost. And you look scared. This kind of thing should never happen but if it’s what you need then I will help you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. 

“You are beautiful,” he said as he raised his hand to stroke her cheek. She felt his eyes piercing her soul and for the first time she noticed how blue they were.

“Pah, I bet you say that to all of your conquests,” she mumbled, looking down at her lap.

“Yes, but very rarely do I mean it.” He put his finger under her chin to raise her head so that she would meet his eyes. “You have this aura around you that says you are not a woman to be messed with but now I see your skin is soft. And warm. You have a white shirt you sometimes wear to my briefings that shows off your breasts just enough to remind us of your femininity. You know exactly what you want and your eyes are the reason you usually get it. No one could resist them. I can’t resist them.”

His face was very close to hers now. She almost believed the things he came out with but she knew it must be an act. He’d done this enough times to know exactly which buttons to push. She appreciated his efforts.

She closed her eyes as he placed his lips on hers and drew a long kiss. His lips were soft and inviting and they felt familiar. This wasn’t awkward at all. He drew back slowly and examined her.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” 

M placed a hand against his chest and leaned up for another kiss. Her fingers trailed over his shirt buttons. She grabbed his tie and pulled him in harder before she found herself pulling his tie off and beginning to unbutton his shirt. He let her take control a she removed his tie and jacket. She slid a hand across his chest inside his open shirt and stroked the muscles that had been carved for her over the years. She felt scars on his sides which brought back memories of every mission that had put him in hospital. 

She peeled off his shirt and threw it to the floor with the rest of his clothes. She pushed his torso back so that he might lay down and she bent down to kiss his chest. She kissed the scar across the top of his shoulder.

“I’m sorry for Yemen.” Her hands then found a long straight scar that ran from his hip up to his ribs.

“I’m sorry for Tokyo,” she whispered as she kissed up the entire length of this scar. Her eyes fell across a tiny scar that had been caused by an incision for a tracheotomy. Iran. That one had gone spectacularly wrong.

“I’m sorry for sending you to Iran.” That was when she had truly believed she might lose him.

“Regret is unprofessional,” he echoed. She was surprised to see an erection forming in his trousers but at least he was making it look convincing. He sat up and kissed down her neck whilst he removed her jacket and her shirt. She gasped when he kissed one spot right behind her ear so he paid special attention to that bit, sucking and nibbling away. She hadn’t realised he had removed her top and thought she probably should have put on a sexier bra than a plain white one. It was designed for support rather than canoodling but James appeared to love it.

“Stand up and take your skirt off,” he ordered. “I bet they’re matching.” 

She shuffled off of the bed and unzipped her skirt. As she slid it down her legs she peeled her stockings off too. James looked hungrily at her. He was right. She had plain white full briefs that had her belly tucked inside. He must be used to red lace and a bit of string for underwear but his erection was still just as prominent as before. He beckoned her to come over to him at which point he pulled her closer by her ass and buried his face in her breasts like he was trying to kiss every part at once. Practical underwear did not turn him off.

She fiddled with the top of his trousers so she wouldn’t feel quite so alone in exposure. He stopped kissing her to stand up and remove everything from himself. She couldn’t help but glare at what had popped out.

“That’s one hell of a monster cock, 007,” she blurted. He was the stuff of legend for a very good reason apparently.

He ignored her and got on his knees in front of her. He breathed in her scent and nuzzled towards her clitoris. There was no escaping the warmth she felt now. He looked into her eyes for approval as he peeled down her knickers and stared directly at her sex. She stepped out of them and he picked them up to place them over his mouth and nose for a second.

“You smell amazing,” he whispered. “It makes me want to do all sorts to you.”

“You have my permission to do them all.”


	3. Chapter 3

He growled as he pushed her back onto the bed, spread her legs and wildly licked her pussy. M squirmed with pleasure but when she let out a soft moan James stopped. There was silence except for their breathing. He slowly moved his head back to her pussy and took one long, drawn out lick from her entrance and right up to her clitoris. She moaned louder.

“Do that again, 007,” she said breathlessly.

“With pleasure, M.”

He continued to tease her until her moans would be heard down the hall. Then he slowed down and inserted a finger inside her. He stopped licking her but moved his finger in and out until it was covered in her juices. He inserted a second finger and she felt her walls stretch out to accommodate him. Again he moved in and out, occasionally rubbing her clit in circles with his thumb. Every time he rubbed her, her hips lifted from the bed with arousal. He bunched a third and fourth finger inside her too and slowly stretched her open all the time trying to get deeper and deeper. With the help of his tongue she was now extremely wet and he could slide his fingers in and out easily. He moved faster until she felt her walls clutching at his hand. She felt the rush of orgasm and yet she still wanted more.

“Fuck me like this,” she said.

She rolled over and got on all fours at the other side of the bed. James followed and gave a whimper when he realised why she had moved over there. Now they could see themselves in a large mirror on the wall.

He lined himself up and gently pushed in. He wasn’t particularly long but his girth was more than enough for her. His preparations had been entirely necessary. Eventually he found himself all the way inside her and he bent over her back, swearing under his breath. She moved first and began slowly bouncing off of him, which made him throw his head back and groan loudly. Her eyes were on the mirror watching him violate her in this delicious way. She loved feeling like he was using her for his own pleasure; she felt needed. James had turned feral.

“Look at you bent over for me like a dog, taking my cock like a good little slut.” He bent over her and placed a hand on her swollen clitoris. “I could make you beg for it until I’m coming all over your face. Would you like that, slut?”

She should have been angry. No one had ever spoken to her like that before, and especially not during sex. 

“I need that cock. I need to taste you. I’ll do anything, let you do anything.” She never wanted him to stop.

“Next time I’ll tie you up, put you on a lead and make you suck my cock until you’re drinking it down and begging like a good little girl.” He kept slamming into her and rubbing her clitoris harder and harder, and her moans got less and less coherent. “Are you a good little girl?”

“Yes!” She had never felt so emasculated in her life and this tipped her over the edge again. She couldn’t remember the last time she orgasmed twice in a row. It made her head spin and made James growl with enthusiasm. He wasn’t finished with her yet. He removed his cock from inside her and stood up.

“Get on your knees and suck me dry.”

She moved as quickly as she could as she sensed the danger brimming behind his words. It was exhilarating. She tried to get him all in her mouth but he was too big. She could taste her own juices on him and was surprised at how wet she had been. He really did have the magic touch; those girls were right. She used her hands to help her and soon he was making noises as loud as she had only lower. 

“I’m going to come all over your face, okay?” he mewled.

“No, only my breasts.”

He was too far gone to care perhaps but he didn’t argue. She moved her hands behind her back to remove her bra.

“Keep it on.”

She moved her hands back to his balls and felt him harden as he got close. Was he afraid that seeing her breasts might turn him off? She didn’t have long to worry about it as he pulled out and pointed his cock at her chest. It spurted all over her breasts and neck and dribbled down over her bra. 

James collapsed back onto the bed to lie down as she went to the bathroom to clean up. It had been a very long time since she’d had this kind of mess to deal with but she could feel her heart beating hard within her. She could actually feel it.

Returning to the bedroom she noticed in the mirror that her bra had taken the brunt of the hit. James had his eyes closed and was breathing heavily back on the bed so she risked removing her bra and decided to try and whip on a bath robe before he noticed what she was doing. As soon as the bra hit the floor James lifted his head up.

“Wow.” She was now completely naked for the first time in she didn’t know how long. She froze to let James look at her. His eyes wandered over the wrinkles and the stretch marks and spent a long time on her sagging breasts. She supposed she repulsed him now after what he’d done. 

James, still staring at her chest, licked his lips.

“We’ll have a short break and then get ready for round three.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That man is a machine. I don't know how she keeps up with him.


	4. Chapter 4

James had treated her to rounds three _and_ four before he lay back against the pillows and fell asleep with M pretending to be asleep next to him. There were two double beds in the elaborately decorated room but she was either too afraid or too lonely to take a bed of her own.

Her grief began to seep back into her thoughts but now it was accompanied by shock and embarrassment at what she had led an agent of hers into. She wasn’t numb. She could feel regret and remorse and she revelled in the knowledge that she had done a very bad thing. But damn it, it felt good to be bad. There was no one here to watch over her shoulder and make her accountable to the bureaucrats who mistakenly believed they were running the show. No one would run her over hot coals after filling in mountains of paperwork. This was a stolen moment between a woman and a man. 

She nudged closer to the man next to her and smiled as she felt the warmth from another person latching onto her. It wouldn’t be sensible to try this again, not least because she was still responsible for this man’s life, but her unorthodox methods to find emotion appeared to have worked this time. She didn’t remember dozing off but she awoke on her side with James behind her stroking her back. 

“You’ve already gone beyond the call of duty. Please don’t feel the need to continue for my benefit.” 

She had found her authoritative voice but a large part of her, most of her in fact, didn’t want him to stop. James cuddled up to her with his chest against her back and kissed her on the shoulder.

“Most people say ‘good morning’,” he muttered. He trailed his fingers up and down her arms and breathed her in. She could feel half of an erection brewing behind her but she was an old lady so it was hardly surprising that he struggled to stay completely hard. She rolled away from him slightly so that she was laying on her front.

“I’m not sure I can take a round five, you know,” she stared disbelievingly at him. He chuckled and continued to stroke her skin. His fingertips whispered in circles over the small of her back, occasionally sliding his whole palm across one cheek of her ass. 

“Actually, this is just for me. I want to remember every inch of you before I have to leave you and be your employee again. I don’t want to forget one minute with you.”

Wow, he’s good, she thought. She was half tempted to believe him. It was quite plain that any man or woman would be spilling all of their secrets to him once he’d made them feel like that, like they were safe, protected and cared for. M felt like she was the only woman in the world to him. There was her and James and then everyone else. Frankly, his cock was as much an asset to MI6 as his aim with a gun.

She moved to pull the covers up over her but he put his arm out to stop her.

“Please don’t move a thing. I just want to see you.” He lay on his back staring at her body and wrapped his hand around his cock. M wondered if she should do this for him after everything he’d done for her but she was frozen to the spot, mesmerised by what he was doing.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do what we did last night?” His breathing was increasing in pace as M shook her head in reply.

“It was the day we were both in the shooting range, before I knew who you were. You stood there like a stuffed up grandmother waiting for a bus, and then you put on some safety glasses, picked up a Smith and Wesson and fired five rounds perfectly around a man’s heart and one in his head,” he was looking right at her as if he daren’t close his eyes. “Then you got the paper target and it wasn’t good enough. You shook your head, reloaded the gun and tried again until you had six shots inside his heart.

“I couldn’t fire a shot. I just stood there, gawping at you from a distance, wondering what other secrets you held.”

M remembered the shooting range, and her frustration at missing her final shot, but she didn’t remember James. That was the day she had become M and later met with the man she was now in bed with but she had no recollection of being with him before that. She was touched that he remembered such an event. 

He was moaning as he spoke to her but he made no indication that should she take over from him.

“Every briefing you sit there and tell me what a bad boy I’ve been and all I can think about is how many ways you could punish me. You could bend me over your desk and spank me or tie me up and not let me go until I’d learned my lesson,” his hand sped up, “fuck, Olivia, can’t you see what you do to me?”

Whatever she was expecting, it wasn’t that. Nobody knew her name. He couldn’t have fucked it out of anyone. He had worked extremely hard to discover that piece of information. Her resolve crumbled. She reached out a hand to cup his cheek and he moved his face into it.

“Oh, James,” she said, trying to mask the pity and wonder at what she was saying to him.

“I’ve needed this for so long,” he groaned,” oh fuck!” He came across his chest, unable to keep his eyes open any longer. He slowed down his rubbing until he was ready to release his cock. He turned to face her.

“Thank you for trusting me.”

M leaned over to kiss him on the forehead but then felt a wave of panic wash over her. Suddenly she didn’t think he was joking. Perhaps this wasn’t all an act and he really did find her attractive. James wiped his chest with tissues and then padded into the bathroom. 

When M heard the shower running she hurriedly put on her clothes and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of your support so far. I can't tell you what it means to me! If more is what you want then I'll gladly keep going!


	5. Chapter 5

“The mark is a twenty-seven year old male,” Tanner explained. “Goes by the name of Zeus. He’s well known for his weapon of choice, an iron bar. He never uses guns but it seems he’s never needed to.”

James leafed through the file of information necessary for his next mission. Zeus, formerly known as Niu Zhi, had a wife and a dead child. He was responsible for plotting the death of a Chinese ambassador and MI6 had been drafted in to see to it that Zeus was unsuccessful. 

“What do you need me to do?” James looked at Tanner but it was M who answered.

“You will go to Hong Kong and observe his movements for a few days. You will report back to us what you find and then we shall inform you what action you need to take.” She met his eyes when she spoke to him and had no problem bossing him around unnecessarily. “That means you await our instruction _before_ you kill him. Is that clear, Bond?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied politely even though he was feeling quite uncomfortable.

It was more than a week since their ‘encounter’, as he called it, and she hadn’t given the slightest indication that anything untoward had happened between them. She looked at him with the same derision he met at every briefing; she didn’t return his initial smile; she was the ice queen everyone thought she was. There was only one thing niggling at his mind and even that was impossible to read: the white shirt.

She often wore that shirt on a day where he was being briefed but now she knew what it did to him. He couldn’t tell if she noticed any of his glances at her chest but surely if she’d had a problem with it she would have worn something different. She had other, less revealing, shirts that wouldn’t distract him quite so much.

But if she had worn something different, then everything would be out of joint. If she stopped wearing it altogether other people would notice the change in behaviour and determine something was wrong. Either she wore it to invite his gaze or she wore it to tell him that nothing had changed.

He saw M as more than just his boss but it was hard to be indifferent to someone who you had the pleasure of seeing naked, for him at least. He came out of that shower intending to give her a long hug but he found her gone. He had wanted to tell her it would all be okay and, if she needed him, he would go to the funeral with her and be a safe presence hidden in the shadows. Instead he felt empty and disappointed. She had quite clearly told him she would take what she needed and, once she had gotten that, she didn’t need him any more. He foolishly let himself believe she was falling for him when really she just wanted a quick buzz from the throes of her cock famous agent.

As he listened to her give him more instructions she seemed just as well put together as ever so maybe his attention had done the trick but it didn’t stop the ache in his belly that wanted to do it again. He usually found a bed mate two or three times a week but since his encounter with M he couldn’t think about anyone else. He had never had to chase a woman before and the challenge of it being his superior was too titillating to ignore. Seduction would be nothing more than a pointless exercise if it wasn’t her face he saw beneath him.

Each night he had replayed the images of her naked body until he found himself inventing new scenarios for them both. She would invite him into her office and James would find her fingering herself whilst watching surveillance of him with another woman. Or he’d come home to find her draped across his bed in red laced suspenders with an array of toys next to her. Or they’d cook dinner together, eat on his rarely used dinner table and then retire to bed early so that he could take his time and make love to her.

“Are you still with us, Bond?” Tanner remarked. 

“Of course, Sir.”

“Here you are,” Tanner stood and gave him an envelope. “The plane leaves just after ten o’clock tomorrow morning. Good luck, 007.”

He held the door open for James to exit but he was examining his plane tickets and gathering the documents in the information file so that he might steal a moment with M. He would flirt with her, irritate her and try to force any kind of detail that might tell him how she felt about him.

“You missed one, Bond,” M handed him another piece of paper that looked unfamiliar to him. “You can see yourself out.”

Recognising his dismissal he left her office and shut the door. Only then did he notice the scribbled pencil on the bottom of the page she had given him.

_7:30. Bring dinner._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think M would have that effect on a lot of people. I won't give away whether he gets to live out those scenarios in real life... (except that the answer is most likely yes, he does)


	6. Chapter 6

Does she like chicken? Who doesn’t like chicken? That might be too boring. Salmon? Caviar? Should he cook something especially for her? Or just a takeaway? But then what: Indian? Chinese? This was a mine field.

He decided to order a massive pizza. Everyone loves pizza, if it didn’t taste good then he wouldn’t get the blame, and it tastes just as good cold as it does warm. That was what he’d tell M anyway. His real reason was that it was a food you ate with your fingers and he couldn’t resist the opportunity to watch M lick her fingers when she was finished. She had such a hold over him. If this had been any normal woman he would have ordered a classy pasta dish from the Italian place nearby, opened a bottle of wine and forgotten her name by the next day. M would read him like a book.

He turned up at her door early, reasoning that if she really hated the food he had time to go out and find something else. He raised his hand to knock on her door but paused. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been nervous about going on a date. He wasn’t sure that was what this was but there was only one way to find out. 

He knocked on her door a few minutes before seven with a large box balanced in one hand and a bottle of white wine roughly grasped in the other. He was regretting his decision to wear jeans and a white t-shirt given that he always felt much more confident in a suit. He was determined not to look like 007 so that he could show her James instead. 

M opened the door. She was wearing a dressing gown, her hair was wet and she had no make-up on.

“I wasn’t expecting you just yet,” she grumbled, “Come in.”

He had only been in her apartment a few times but never with prior permission. He edged through the living room door trying not to make it too obvious that he knew exactly where he was going. He placed the pizza box on the coffee table by the sofa and opened a couple of drawers in the kitchen pretending he didn’t know where she kept a bottle opener. M watched him from the door.

“Don’t be an idiot, 007,” she drawled. “Get some plates, I’ll put my face on and then we can eat.”

“The fewer clothes you have on now, the better,” he chuckled. She disappeared down the corridor. Perhaps he should have started with ‘hello’.

James filled two wine glasses with generous portions and placed them on metal coasters on the table. A hair dryer started up down the hall. He noticed there were very few pictures around the room and the ones that were up were very old. On the windowsill, there was a photo of M and her husband on their wedding day. She had worn a smart suit with a skirt that day, much like she wore at work, and she had only the faintest of smiles. On the bookcase there were two photos of who James assumed was her daughters. They looked about five or six. Finally, there was a newspaper clipping attached to the fridge from a few years ago that showed M receiving honours from the Queen. James had been one of her body guards that day and sure enough, he spotted himself in the background looking on at M with concern.

There were very few books on her bookshelf but there were shelves of CDs. There were two shelves for classical music, one for jazz and another for Broadway musicals. He was eyeing up Miles Davis’ Birth of the Cool when M returned.

“You can put that on if you like.”

Her hair was in place, her make-up was on and she had replaced the dressing gown with a red ruffled top with short sleeves and some comfy beige trousers. Her feet remained bare. She looked much more relaxed now and sauntered over to dump herself on her sofa with her feet tucked underneath her. James thought some music might release the tension that was eating him up and put it on softly in the background before joining her on the other end of the sofa.

“So what are we having?” she asked sarcastically, looking at the pizza box. “Roast lamb with raspberry coulis? Tom yum gai? A big mac?”

Her stomach rumbled. 

“Fine. If you don’t want pizza,” he mocked, picking up the box, “then you don’t have to have it.”

He lifted the lid and chose the biggest, cheesiest piece he could find. He folded the slice in half and lavishly chewed the end of, over acting his enjoyment to show her what she was missing. Her stomach rumbled again.

“It’s pepperoni, y’know?” he said as he took another bite. “I know you like your meat.”

M rolled her eyes, shook her head and chose her own slice. Strings of cheese hung from it and the slice flopped all over her hand as she was unable to keep it flat.

“This pizza has a defective structural integrity,” she commented. James smiled and leaned over to her. With his hand on hers, he showed her how to fold it in half and then take a bite from the end. “Mm, not bad. Perhaps the wine will be more passable.”

James continued to eat in silence. He still wasn’t sure what M had planned and he hoped she would start explaining soon or he might do something rash. M apparently had other ideas as they got through the entire pizza and the entire bottle of wine without discussing anything that James had questions about. 

M was laid across the sofa with her legs up on James’ knees, her head bopping gently to the music. James’ hands slid down her leg and he pushed his thumbs into the sole of her foot. M looked peaceful and closed her eyes.

Was he only there to have sex with her? Or had she been a bit lonely? She looked comfortable. He worried she might fall asleep.

“Olivia,” he said quietly, “why am I here?” He continued to massage her feet.

“I thought that would have been obvious,” her eyes remained closed. “I wanted to pay you back for what you did for me a couple of days ago.”

“It was nine days. Nine days and,” he checked his watch, “fifty-two minutes ago.”

She didn’t appear to have heard him. She was absent mindedly sucking on her fingertips just like he had imagined. It hurt that she hadn’t been counting the days like he had. Every moment without her had been a moment wasted and he wanted to make up for lost time but she was as uninterested as ever. He switched to massage her other foot. She let out a contented sigh in reply. 

“I’ve thought about you every minute of every day and tomorrow I’m going to leave the country and try not to blow up everything in sight because I can’t be near you. Ever since that night I’ve had an image of you on your knees etched into my eyelids so that I can’t even blink without seeing you. I try to sleep and then you start doing things to me and teasing me in my head with sexy underwear and me doing you in your office. All I can think about is how we had one illicit fuck and now I want more. Tell me it’s not just me.”

-Is what he wanted to say. Instead he simply said, “I’ve missed you.”

“Don’t underestimate me, James.” She was still a vision of relaxation. “I want to pay you back and I will give you exactly what you want.”

Would she get him a new car or let Q branch make the exploding pen he always laughed about? That was not what he wanted. He stopped rubbing her feet and she looked up at him. His curiosity got the better of him.

“What do I want?” he asked.

She laughed at him. Was he that easy to read? She said nothing but stood up and held out her hand. She led him to her bedroom and told him to stand still. 

Right before his eyes she revealed that beneath her red top was a lacy red bra. And underneath her trousers were some unhooked suspenders and a g-string. It didn’t look at all comfortable; it was so unlike the M he knew. She opened the top drawer of her bedside table and took out a pair of stockings. James was entranced as he watched her roll them up her legs and connect them to the suspenders by sliding the straps underneath the g-string first. She then laid back on her bed and seductively beckoned him over with one finger.

She wasn’t in James’ bedroom and there were no toys lined up next to her but damn it, it was a good guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James is so in over his head. I don't think he realises how totally smitten he is with her. Then again, M still thinks he's just doing her a service. And here I am thinking nothing but *smut smut smut*.


	7. Chapter 7

He ran across the room to her, removing his t-shirt as he went. He lay on top of her and pushed all of his weight onto her as he roughly kissed her and sent his hands wandering all over her body. He was utterly lost. He couldn’t tell you what day it was but he could accurately describe every inch of M’s skin. He kissed her face, her neck, her shoulders, anything he could get his lips to and it was a while before he realised that M was trying to roll him over.

He rolled onto his back. M straddled him and kissed him gently on the cheek. Then she stood up and helped remove James’ remaining clothes until his cock popped up and stood to attention. The smooth jazz was still playing in the background and M used this to her advantage. She turned her back on him but kept her head sideways so she could still look at him. She placed each thumb inside one side of her g-string and very slowly danced it over the suspenders, leaning over without bending her knees.

James couldn’t help but slowly stroke himself whilst he watched her. He watched her sit down on her dressing table chair and pick up a bottle of lube. She slathered it over two of her fingers as well as rubbing some across her folds and she enjoyed the contact with her clitoris. She carefully pushed her fingers inside herself and James enviously watched from a distance as she fingered herself. As much as he loved a show, he was dying to be the one doing that to her. He’d had his main course and now he was ready for dessert.

After a while she entered a third and fourth finger with more lube until she was muttering James’ name under her breath. He saw there was a towel on the dressing table and when he saw her clean her fingers off with it he realised just how prepared M was. She had been planning this for some time. Everything was just where she needed it.

With her hands clean she returned to James on the bed and removed his hand from his cock. She climbed on top of him and sat up straight on her knees so that she could align his cock with her pussy. One hand was brushing his cock back to front through her pussy lips and the other hand was clasping at her breast. She wiggled his cock on her clitoris for a moment which produced such a divine smile and moan of pleasure. James was losing patience now. He slid his hands up her stocking clad thighs and took hold of her hips. His tip was just nudged inside her so M moved both hands to her breasts and James held her weight. 

He was in control now. He could pound up into her, he could let her fall onto him, or he could hold her here and admire her need. He felt her folds contract around the edge of his cock as she tried to encourage him inside her. James just held her there and marvelled at what this woman was doing to him. He hadn’t had to do any work to prepare her and yet here she was ready to give herself to him.

He very slowly lowered her onto his cock and groaned at how tight she was. 

“Now James, you are not to move a muscle,” her eyes were full of mischief. “Lie back and enjoy the ride.”

James slid his hands down her stockings to her knees so that she was free to move. She leaned over and put her hands on either side of him. She teasingly lifted off him until he was almost all the way out and then slammed back onto him without warning. Soon she was lifting herself off him repeatedly and making all sorts of debauched noises.

Her breasts swayed below him and he longed to remove her bra and see them bouncing in all their glory but M sat up and pushed him deep inside her. She put her hands on his pelvis and started bouncing so that she could go straight up and down and he could see her every move. Her incessant bouncing was driving him wild. Her breasts looked to be bouncing more than the bra could support and he thought about wrapping his lips around her nipples to soothe them. His eyes followed the suspenders on her hips and admired the straps that would frame her ass.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. He lifted his hips off the bed as fast as he could and slammed into her again and again. M’s moans were getting louder as each thrust rippled through her clitoris, harder and harder.

“Come for me, James,” she moaned breathlessly, pinching her nipples through the bra. “I’m yours.”

He would have come then anyway but as he felt wave after wave of come filling her up he held her hips down forcefully to keep her on top of him. Just as he was coming to his last drop, M let out a wild moan of ecstasy and James’ sensitive cock twitched at the renewed pressure of her climax. Every contraction made him hitch his breath. She collapsed on top of him and laid her head against his chest with his cock still buried inside her. They stayed like this for a few minutes and eventually their breathing returned to normal. He was comfortable.

“Would you like to stay the night?” she asked with her head still against his chest. He couldn’t see her face. If he could then he might have been able to tell whether she was simply being polite after having just had sex with him or if she genuinely wanted him to stay with her.

Of course he wanted to stay with her. He would love to fall asleep cuddled up to her and then wake up with a good morning kiss and maybe make her breakfast in bed. Then they’d go and visit a museum or go for a walk and he’d pick her a flower from the garden that she carried with her all day. Then when they got home he’d start cooking and end up getting flour all over her kitchen. He’d make chocolate torte and a bolognese and when he’d finished the sauce he’d put a dab on her nose and suck it off to test it and she’d try and squirm away from him but his strong arms would keep her close. And then when they got to bed they wouldn’t have sex but he’d give her a back rub and stroke her soft skin until he could watch her sleeping and he’d drift off himself. More than anything he wanted to stay.

That was not the life of an Intelligence Officer. 

“I think I should go home and get ready for my flight tomorrow,” he said.

She didn’t say anything but he felt her squeeze him with her arms just a little bit tighter.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and kissed the top of her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to add this chapter until the morning but we need smut and we need it now! 
> 
> James is such a big softy at heart (not when he's beating someone to death but definitely when he thinks about M). Fleming often painted him as quite the romantic in the books and I'd love to see him spoil M rotten one day.


	8. Chapter 8

Six weeks later Bond arrived home in a private ambulance.

M had read his medical report many times but it didn’t make it hurt any less for her. Usually she would send an aide to check on her agents when they returned to their country injured; for Bond, she usually sent Tanner. Now she wouldn’t let anyone but her be first on the scene.

He had been discharged from hospital that day with three broken ribs and the healing wounds of several gun shots to his side. Zeus apparently still knew how to use a gun even if guns weren’t his weapon of choice. Ultimately, James won but it wasn’t without sacrifice.

M headed straight to James’ flat the minute she could leave the office. She rang the bell to his block and the door buzzed to allow her access. She took the stairs up to the top and knocked on his door repeatedly until he answered. She heard the chain being unhooked and the door opened. James looked very sleepy. He had his pyjama bottoms on and no shirt, which meant that M could see the bandages focused on one side of him. She didn't show it but it stung her.

“Hello you,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile. “Come to check on the invalid?”

She didn’t laugh and walked right into his flat. She had only ever been to the door before. It was furnished with dark brown furniture that looked more like the Antiques Roadshow than the twenty-first century sophisticated gentleman she had come to assume. The 60 inch television was the only suggestion that someone with an advanced knowledge of technology lived there.

M placed her bag on the kitchen table as James shut the door and re-hooked the chain. He stumbled off in the opposite direction. M followed him and found him laid down on top of his bed with an open bottle of whisky on the bedside table and an empty glass in his hand.

“I see you’re taking your medication requirements very seriously, Bond.”

“It hurts,” he grumbled. “Pills don’t do much good any more.”

M had seen him drink worse than this before so she wasn’t too worried about that. If he’d had a shirt on she wouldn’t have been able to tell that he was injured, just drunk. She sat on the edge of the bed next to where he lay and, with his eyes closed, his hand searched for hers. 

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

“Even an old bag like me?” She was genuinely curious. Alcohol and narcotics would have a strange effect on telling the truth but she hadn’t forgotten who she was talking to. He could still be in full command of his faculties and be putting this on for show.

“Yep. Not one of the girls out there had anything on you.” His eyes were dozing but he kept hold of her hand. M smiled to herself. Perhaps she should have been angry that he had slept with other women. It was true she felt a small stab of jealousy but a much larger part of her was keen to watch what he got up to with somebody else. She wanted to compare notes on his techniques and be able to see the kinds of things he did to her from a different angle. Plus it was hardly surprising that a man like him needed to release his anxiety somehow. If it ensured he made it home in one piece then he could do whatever he liked and she would be grateful.

“Do you need me to get you anything?” She was a little taken aback by her own question. She didn’t intend to come here and mother him or play doctor. Her job was to assess when he could return to active service but his drunken state probably covered many sins. “I can stay the night if you’d like?”

“No. Come back tomorrow. Goodbye Missy Mansfield, love you forever,” he replied cheerfully, extravagantly waving an arm around. He rolled over onto his good side and pulled his pillow close to his chest. His breathing slowed down until she was pretty sure he had fallen asleep.

*

At eight o’clock the next morning, she returned. James’ eyes were red but much more alert.

“Good morning, 007,” she said a little louder than was necessary. 

“Yes, M?” he replied shortly. He hadn’t opened the door wide enough to let her inside. 

“I’m here to try and do your evaluation again.”

His eyes narrowed at her. He sighed and let her in. She once again placed her bag on the table and watched him.

“What do you mean ‘again’?”

“I was here last night. Or did Mr Vicodin and Mr Laphroaig not fill you in on that part?" James rubbed his aching head. "Don’t worry, you didn’t let me stay.”

She removed her coat and hung it across the back of a chair. James was staring at her with a lop sided grin. He sidled over to her and wrapped his arms around her like a lover.

“You wanted to stay with me?” He was trying to provoke her but it wouldn’t work. Charm was oozing from him and he had turned on every possible outlet that might interest her arousal. It was most likely an attempt to distract her from writing an evaluation. “Could you not resist these bulging muscles from a big strong man like me?”

M did not look impressed. Without returning his hug she raised a hand with her index finger pointing up. She then used this finger and jabbed it right into the side where his bandage was. James hunched backwards in pain.

“Hmmmm, if I see a flobberworm I’ll be sure to contact you to save me from certain death,” she huffed. He ignored her.

“So you did want to stay with me then. That’s very interesting.”

“Let’s get on with the evaluation, shall we?” She took out a pen and a piece of paper from her bag and they both moved to sit on his ageing sofa, albeit James somewhat reluctantly.

“How much vicodin have you taken in the last twenty-four hours?”

“Enough.”

M scribbled on the paper: _Is regularly taking medication above the recommended dose._ James eyed what she wrote.

“And have your toilet habits been affected in any way?”

“Point, shoot and shit. Isn’t that what I do best?”

She scribbled again: _Displays signs of severe constipation._ James looked questioningly at her.

“Yes. You are full of shit sometimes... Any erectile dysfunction?” she enquired sweetly. “If, for instance, I did a lap dance for you right now would you be able to get it up?”

“I do have _some_ standards, y’know,” he mocked. M feigned looking hurt. “Oh come on, you old mare! I’d do you in a second.”

“Excellent,” she said as she wrote: _Further evidence required._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatever you're thinking, yes, that's exactly what's about to happen!


	9. Chapter 9

M threw the evaluation pages on the floor, shortly followed by her jacket and her shoes. She did what could only be described as ‘strutted’ across the room to her bag and pulled out a CD. She placed it in James’ machine and pressed play. Slow, deep jazz sprung from the speakers.

“L’Assassinat de Carala,” James mused, impressed. “You know just how to turn me on.”

He was only wearing a t-shirt and some pyjama bottoms and he sat back deep into the sofa with his legs wide apart and feet flat on the floor. M couldn’t wait to be between them. With each strum of the bass line she took a step towards the centre of the room and glided across the floor dragging her toes across the carpet. She stood a distance away from him so he could see all of her at once. She looked right into his eyes as she undid the buttons of her shirt underneath the white scarf she was wearing. 

She didn’t remove her shirt, but let it hang there as she ran her hands up her body, up her chest, and pushing her neck to one side as she let one hand grasp her hair and the other dipped her little finger into her lips. She took a deep breath. It was electrifying seeing him watch her every move like he was drinking her in and ready to pounce. She was breathing deeply and slowly so that her chest rose, her lips slightly parted. A couple of months ago she would have lain next to her husband and waited for him to finish so she could go to sleep. Now Olivia Mansfield was giving a strip tease to an employee who would take her across the coffee table and still be left begging for more. Her whole body felt alive.

She slowly shook her shirt off of her shoulders and unclasped her bra. Her scarf covered her breasts so that even when the bra was removed, she was covered up. James wasn’t looking at her eyes any more.

She sauntered over to stand between his legs and admire his restraint. His erection remained untouched underneath his bottoms. M used both hands to unhook her trousers, undo the zip and slide them down her legs. When they reached the bottom she stood up by trailing her hands all the way up her legs. When she leaned over, the scarf still covered every bit that James wanted to see up close. She stood up straight and rested one hand on her sex, the other on her ass. 

To remove her knickers she leaned over again so that James saw nothing but her blue eyes twinkling up at him. When her knickers hit the ground she didn’t stand up immediately. She looked down at them and encouraged James to look at them too. When he did, she stood up and at the same time turned her back to him. He groaned in frustration. All she had was a scarf on and yet all he could see was her ass. She held her cheeks and spanked herself once, twice and a third time. Then she unravelled the scarf from around her neck and put it behind her so her pink cheeks were covered. 

M twisted her head back to look at him and was sure he saw the side of her breast. His hands were grasping the ends of his knees quite tightly and his toes were curling as he watched her. She turned her body round but at the same time moved the scarf with her so that her breasts and pussy were still hidden from view. 

As the music stopped she dropped the scarf to the floor.

James hitched his pyjama bottoms enough to let his cock spring out and started fisting it. M got on her knees and removed his hands. Then she took one long lick from his balls and up his shaft. When she reached the top she sucked on his head for a while before gradually sinking her mouth all the way down. James moaned and M felt his hand slide behind her head to hold her there for a moment. When he relaxed she gently pulled her head back up and kissed his tip.

“Go and wait for me in the bedroom,” she whispered.

James kissed her on the lips before he got up and then walked towards the corridor, trying not to take his eyes of her. She felt a bit guilty but her heart beat even faster now he was gone. He’d finish himself off once he realised but she knew he’d want to get his own back and that was what thrilled her the most.

*

James waited fifteen minutes before he couldn’t wait any longer and went back to the kitchen to see what she was doing. All of her things, including her insanely erotic body, were gone. All that was left was a copy of his evaluation on the dining table.

_Does the candidate display any signs of agitation, confusion or forgetfulness?  
-Frequently forgets his manners and is prone to confusion when visitors become too stimulating._

_Does the candidate need encouragement to dress?  
-Yes, however no encouragement is needed to enact the reverse. Candidate shows signs of being overly hot blooded._

_Is the candidate prone to mood swings?  
-Yes. Candidate switched from excitement to anger during the evaluation period but it is assumed that his excitement returned when in isolation._ At the end of this answer she had pencilled in “Randy bastard”. __

_Is the candidate able to hold their focus and a conversation for a sustained period of time?  
-Attention span exemplary. However, conversation skills dramatically deteriorate in times of stress. Even agonisingly slow movements are enough to spark a rising blood pressure._

_Is the candidate physically able?  
-Candidate’s physical state is desired by many. Is able to perform simple tasks with his hands and takes orders without question._

M had obviously spent a lot of time crafting her answers but James couldn’t help wish she’d just followed and fucked him like a good little girl. He continued to read her answers and even found himself laughing out loud at some of them. It was the kind of thing that Tanner would take on face value and not read anything into even though it was glaringly obvious that they were talking about filthy things.

His favourite bit was at the very bottom. There was a section for him to sign and M had already ‘helpfully’ pencilled in some answers for him. Where he was supposed to write ‘male’ she had written _Sex: Yes, please._ And next to ‘Date’ she had pencilled in _British Museum, Friday morning, keep the whole day free._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bond is seconds away from coming out of fiction and beating the crap out of me... But hey ho!
> 
> Also, the song (if you'd like to listen to it whilst imagining that woman doing things) is L'Assassinat de Carala from Miles Davis' 'Kind of Blue'. 
> 
> You can hear it for free on Spotify here: https://play.spotify.com/track/6gDmrsr914a3PK2XL44D89


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tagged for dub con. James wouldn't touch her if she told him no but it's still dubious here.

Fine. If a game was what she wanted, a game was what she was going to get.

It was 23:59 on Thursday evening and Bond was crouched beneath the window to M’s apartment. She had disappeared to bed shortly after eleven and James had laid in wait, ready for the official beginning of Friday morning. No one had caught sight of him, least of all M, and upon the stroke of midnight it was his time to shine.

He entered her place through the front door. There was no need for showing off at breaking and entering; he’d had a key made months ago that she knew nothing about. M had always been secretly impressed at his ability to break in, he was sure, so he’d never told her how simple it was for him.

He silently closed the door and headed to her bedroom. M was fast asleep. A silk kimono rested upon a chair nearby and he was pleased to see her wearing a red satin camisole and matching pyjama trousers. The covers were at the bottom of the bed, hardly touched. She looked so peaceful, curled up on her side, breathing deeply and without any idea what was waiting for her. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to snuggle up behind her and wake her gently in the morning but then his cock twitched as if to remind him why he was there in the first place. It was time for revenge.

He placed his bag next to a chair, stalked up behind her on the opposite side of the bed and stood like a lion ready to pounce. In one swift movement he reached across the bed, cupped his hand around M’s mouth and drew her body close to him. M tried to cry out but his strong arms meant she was going nowhere. Her eyes were wide and darting around the room trying to see him.

“Good morning, Miss Mansfield,” James drawled. M relaxed for a second. “You requested to see me on Friday morning but I noticed that you failed to provide a time. I do so hate to be late.”

M’s glare told him she was clearly not impressed and all the fear had disappeared. She was sceptical. Maybe he had a tendency not to return home when he was supposed to but it was necessary respite in his view. Anyway, she was his prisoner now; she was not allowed to be so insolent.

“You will be a good girl, won’t you?” 

M continued to look at him like he was a child. He grabbed her arm hard until it was bound to cause her pain. The tension returned to her in full and the fear reappeared in her eyes. 

“I said, you _will_ be a good girl, won’t you?” He put on his most fearsome and vindictive voice. This may be a game to them but the fear had to be real. She had to believe he would really hurt her, even if it was just a little bit. She nodded slowly in reply.

He pulled her roughly off the bed and sat her on her own chair. It had a thin, high back made of wooden poles that would be excellent for holding. James had brought some handcuffs with him and a tie to cover her mouth. He had considered bringing the ball gag but they hadn’t discussed that sort of thing. Yet.

He pulled her arms behind the chair and cuffed them to each other. She wouldn’t be able to get up even if she tried.

“Thank you for interrupting my beauty sleep, James,” started M. Sarcasm oozed from her. “I just love it when you turn up unannounced so.”

James wrapped the tie around his fists and pulled it taut in front of her. He didn’t smile at her. He resolutely stared into her eyes like he would any mark during interrogation. He grabbed her chin with one hand and forced her to look right into his eyes.

“You will not speak.” He dangled the tie in front of her as if daring her to try it and he would instantly silence her.

He removed his trousers and shirt and stroked his cock until it was fully erect. M sat in silence curiously watching what he was doing. She seemed frightened enough to obey but knowing her, it wouldn’t last long before she turned rogue. James took his chance to keep her quiet.

“You have some unfinished business to take care of.”

He put his cock near her mouth and she voluntarily opened up. She stuck out her tongue and licked the tip. Her eyes widened as she stared up at him and took his entire cock into her throat. He didn’t have to move a muscle; she was doing it all for him. She was tied to a chair and sucking him off. Maybe she was guilty about how she had left him earlier in the week. Either way, now he was getting what he had waited so long for.

M grazed her teeth across the very tip of his cock as he started to moan and thrust faster. The pleasure was almost painful but his hips betrayed how great it felt to him. Pain and pleasure often blurred for him.

Soon he had grabbed the back of her head and was pounding into her throat as fast as he could. M’s eyes watered as he choked her with his cock.

And then, all too quickly, he felt the buzz of his orgasm burn up through his groin and spurt down her throat. Days of pent up frustration burst from him. She swallowed and swallowed, not that he gave her much of a choice. When he tried to remove himself she was still trying to lick him clean, like she wanted more, even though it can’t have been pleasant for her. James knelt down and tugged on her satin pyjamas until her legs were bare.

“Payback time,” he whispered as his hands slid up her thighs. He kissed his way up her thigh and began nuzzling into her pussy. He could smell her arousal and made a mental note to be rougher in future if that was what she liked. M widened her legs to allow him better access and he licked gently up her folds.

“Really, 007, what kind of punishment is this?”

James responded by sucking on her clitoris, which made her yelp. He licked and sucked at her sex until she was muttering his name under her breath. Then he returned to his bag and brought out a small vibrator. M’s face lit up when she realised what it was. James chuckled. She had no idea what he was going to do with it.

“Mmm, yes please!” she encouraged.

“Actually Olivia,” he said as he resumed licking her folds, “this is no ordinary vibrator.”

He clicked it on and held it on the bone above her clitoris. She shivered and bucked her hips as much as she could whilst tied to a chair.

“Are you sure?” she asked breathlessly.

James slid the vibrator up and down her folds a few times, watching her get closer and closer to orgasm. He dipped it inside of her, pushed it against her clitoris, dipped it inside again. It was shaped in such a way that James could leave it resting against her clitoris but also slightly inside of her. She was loving it.

He clicked it again and the vibrator buzzed for a few seconds and then stopped. Then it buzzed again and stopped, only for longer this time. Then it buzzed extremely powerfully and M cried out in ecstasy but she still didn’t orgasm. It was a variation of pleasure and James just had to sit back and watch.

“This vibrator will keep you on the edge of orgasm and yet never give you release,” he taunted as he sat himself on the edge of the bed and watched her. “Let’s see how long you last before you’re begging me to finish you off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's only fair that M has to feel frustration too. And she will. For a loooong time!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James is in trouble and gets a sharp telling off.

Ten minutes. That’s all she lasted. She might feign the high and mighty road of dignity but it turns out she’s a slave to her pussy just like every other girl James had fucked.

“Please let me come, James,” she moaned. “I need, I need…”

She was struggling to form even the simplest of sentences. James didn’t move. He let her wait it out for a little bit longer just so he could be sure that she really, really meant it.

“I’m begging you,” she whimpered. “I need to come. Please, please.”

James took in the sight before him. She was sweating and writhing and pushing her breasts out; he was dying to touch her. Not that he let her see that. He got up and knelt in front of her, poised to remove the vibrator.

“Let me come. But not like this.”

James was puzzled. Not like this? Did she not want the vibrator or did she not want James on his knees? Or was it that she didn’t want to be tied up any longer?

“Let me taste your cock again.”

James rolled his head back and growled. He couldn’t believe that after all that pleasure she still wanted a piece of him. His reputation was clearly well earned. This fabulous woman wasn’t just content to orgasm; she wanted to do it with him. Well, what reason did he have to deny her such a pleasure?

“Coming right up, Ma’am,” James said as he stood up and placed his bobbing cock in front of her mouth. M stretched her tongue out desperate to suck it, still moaning with every powerful buzz of the vibrator. He slid into her throat and every moan rumbled through his cock like fire into his belly. Had she not had her mouth stuffed she would be making quite some noise. James closed his eyes to feel everything more.

But then the moans changed. Something was thrown to the floor and before he had time to look at what was happening there was a painfully tight hand grasped around the base of his cock. 

M was free of the handcuffs and had thrown the vibrator away. She was staring daggers at him.

“You will never break into my house in the middle of the night in order to terrify me like that again,” the breathy moans were long gone and instead were replaced with the authoritative force he recognised from many a bollocking. “If that is something you want to do then we discuss it first and I’m much more likely to say yes if I don’t fear for my life and desperately hope I don’t have a heart attack.”

Oh god. The realisation of what James had done was starting to drain into him. He thought it was a fun little game, time to get his own back but, now that he thought about it, much of what he had put her through could be construed in a terrible light. And at her age a heart attack was entirely credible. What would he have done if that had happened?

“Be that as it may, I believe that if I had told you to stop then you would have,” she continued.

“I would never-“ he began. That was true, absolutely true; he never wanted to hurt her. She spoke over him.

“- and once I had realised you weren’t a random intruder I did relax. However, that does not give you the right to believe that this was an acceptable choice for you to make.”

He was mortified. It seemed very obvious to him now that this had been a bad idea and as much as he wanted to crawl into a hole for a few years he was still impressed. She had released herself from his handcuffs, which no one had ever done to him before. Tying her up would be much more fun if he expected her to jump out and beat him at his own game every time. He silently promised himself that the next topic they would discuss would be different ways of restraining her. He would always talk about it first. He never wanted to scare her like that again.

M stood up and reached a hand to stroke his face, with the other still firmly grasping him where he would be paying attention.

“It’s okay, James,” she soothed. “Relationships are all about learning and to do that we must make mistakes.”

Were they in a relationship? She seemed to think so. Did he?

“This is what we’re going to do. You are going to go home. You are going to return here at 9:30am dressed smart but comfortable. We will have our date and then we will retire back here where I shall cook you dinner. It will be pleasant and calming, and might actually count as some sort of recovery for you. I know I’d be better off telling the Dalai Lama but, you need your rest, James.”

She loosened her hold on his cock and handed him the handcuffs. 

“And honestly, James,” she smiled, “if you want to tie me up you need to spend a bit more time with _my_ toys.” She snorted and looked at the handcuffs he held limply. 

“You may as well have tried tying me up with spaghetti.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He'll lick his wounds and run home with his tail between his legs but it does mean he'll be extra fluffy on their little date!
> 
> And I'm not sure what toys she is referring to but I'm pretty sure James wants to meet them all.


	12. Chapter 12

9:30am came and went. James arrived promptly with a large bouquet of flowers by way of an apology and, having left them stewing in a vase, they left arm in arm and headed into London.

It was busy, mostly filled with tourists, but James was just happy to be in M’s good books again. Given that she would be cooking for him that evening he tried to come up with ways he could spoil her during the day. Flowers and jewellery were usually his first choice of gifts but he didn’t want to give her things to wear. He spent much of his time trying to take things off her, not put things back on.

It was a gloriously sunny day, although still a little chilly, and they were pleased to reach the confines of a large stone building, the British Museum. James thought this was an odd choice for M. It was a very public place for them to be together and as far as he knew there was nothing but history and artefacts inside. He wouldn’t have believed this was something she would enjoy but, like she told him before, it was all about learning.

They stood in front of the Rosetta Stone and M was looking at every pictogram as if she could read exactly what they said. James was more interested in the people around him. There was a small group of Japanese tourists, each of whom had a camera and seemed to spend more time photographing the stone than actually looking at it with their eyes. There was a teenage couple he could see directly through the glass where the larger boy was clearly whispering something filthy or hilarious in his boyfriend’s ear. Further away he saw a mother with a young boy about two or three. He had no idea what all the bits of rock were for or why people were taking photos but a select few onlookers were chuckling at him as he kept roaring like a lion at the sphinx’s head. James turned back to M and discovered her staring right at him.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” she said. Apparently he was supposed to agree.

“Yes, it is.”

James took M’s hand and they strolled to the end of the room towards headstones and sarcophagi like they had all the time in the world.

“It’s just amazing,” she continued, “that over seven thousand years ago there were real people making these and yet here they are, still standing today. Nothing we do will ever last that long. It will all crumble into dust.”

“Yes, I know,” he replied as seriously as he could. “And to think, in just a few years they’ll be able to put you in here too.”

That earned him a slap on the arm and he mocked being in pain.

“Sorry, sorry,” he placated, “of course you won’t be here in the British Museum in a few years.”

She stared at him and he desperately tried to keep a straight face. He continued:

“You’ll be in the Natural History Museum with all the other dinosaurs.”

“You cheeky bastard!” she cried. M was trying to cover a smile so he knew that he was already off the hook but they left the area anyway so he wouldn’t get into any more trouble.

M led him round and pointed out what she found fascinating, like the fake crystal skull her father had told her all about as a girl. Or the terracotta figure that was actually retrieved during a mission through MI6 but the little note with it behind the glass said it had been sold it by ‘a collector’.

“Head of the Secret Intelligence Service more like,” she muttered.

James was just beginning to appreciate the hidden stories behind every object when M excused herself to go to the bathroom. James sat himself on the stairs that led to the Reading Room and watched the crowds moving below him. He felt just like them. He was like all those couples down there, spending the day with a loved one, looking forward to a romantic dinner in the evening, and stealing hugs and kisses in public where they could. It was rare for him to feel normal.

“Excuse me, do you know where I’d find the pillar of Ashoka?”

It was a young woman with a foreign accent. Spanish he guessed, although there were hints of something else in there, like she’d learned English from an American.

“Unfortunately, yes, I do,” he remembered all too well M’s little speech about how it came from India and something about how it has writing on it when no other written text survives from the era. “It’s up one floor, through those doors.”

She flashed a smile and thanked him before heading off in the direction he had pointed. M chose that moment to reappear.

“Do you secrete some sort of raw pheromone that attracts all beautiful people within a ten mile radius?”

“Well, you’re here, so you might be right.”

M rolled her eyes and sat down next to him. James pecked a kiss on her temple and laced his fingers between hers to hold her hand.

“I’ve had a wonderful day so far, James,” she sighed. “Thank you for being here with me.”

He idly stroked the top of her thumb with his. They both looked out at the people bustling around them. Her thanks hung in the silence.

“Olivia, do you know I’ve barely spared a thought for anybody but you these last few weeks?” he murmured softly against her ear. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’d developed a drug in Q branch and bewitched me into following your every move.”

She gave a short laugh.

“I don’t need drugs,” she said. He wondered if she was referring to her breasts because it’s true that he would follow those things round all day, every day if it were possible. He would gladly do the job of her bra and support her 24/7. In fact, if she offered him that kind of employment it would be pretty hard to say no. She glared at him. “I whistle, you come running.”

He tried to look hurt but actually it was very true. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for her if she asked.

“You're irresistible. I had sex with you when you asked, not that I was going to object particularly strongly, and I’ve killed for you. I’m not sure what the next step up from that would be.”

She paused.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about that,” she stuttered. “And I wondered if you might be interested – it’s just a thought – unless you think it’s silly or repulsive, that you might consider becoming…”

Her cheeks weren’t blushing but the top of her chest was flushed. She could conceal her thoughts in her face but she hadn’t needed to control the rest of her body. James knew exactly what she was going to ask. He couldn’t deny he’d thought about it himself but the thought of actually saying something would make him feel like a prepubescent idiot.

He scrambled around the stairs so that he was down on one knee in front of her. He clasped her left hand and looked deeply into her eyes. M froze and didn’t blink.

“Olivia Mansfield,” he said, “would you do me the greatest pleasure a man could ask and do me the honour-“

“Er, James?” she asked uncertainly. She looked terrified of what he was about to say and was almost pulling her hand away from him. People were starting to watch.

“- of becoming -“ he brought her hand up to his lip and specifically kissed the ring finger. M’s eyes widened further.

“- my girlfriend?”

M’s whole body slumped as she sighed and all the tension was gone from within her. She gave him that look that said she was not impressed and was ready to kill him. She pushed her right hand across her face and covered her eyes with her fingers. They had drawn quite a crowd now.

“Yes, now get up, you moron,” she snapped, trying to hide the laughter in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh he so had her going then!
> 
> More fluff (and some smut) coming up for part two of their date...


	13. Chapter 13

M was quite keen to escape the museum after James’ little show so they took a stroll into St James Park. There were very few clouds in the frosted sky and the low sun elongated their shadows on the path as they walked. Despite the climate, James insisted on buying himself an ice cream and revelled in M’s disbelieving looks.

“You’ll freeze to death,” she warned.

“I grew up in Scotland. This is like the Bahamas.” They rarely spoke about things like that but the situation proved his point and he always loved winning an argument.

“As your _girlfriend_ don’t I get a say in these things now?” That word sounded awkward and confusing to him but from the way she’d said it he knew that she was just as lost as he was now.

“Nothing’s changed. You have just as much control over my behaviour as you always have done,” he said. “So no, you don’t get a say.”

He licked his ice cream, daring her to comment on it again. She giggled at him. He was just as stubborn as she was.

“I never thought I’d be the one to tame you into domesticity,” she said, peering out over the lake. “You’re right though. Nothing’s changed.”

That was rare. She never, ever told him he was right even when it was clear by a mile. Maybe she was finally starting to lose her mind.

“What do you mean?”

“It means that everything carries on as normal. I run you over hot coals for wasting so much of the tax payer’s money and you still sleep around on foreign continents,” she explained.

He paused to look at her, trying to catch her eye. Sleeping around was rule number one of Things Not To Do In A Relationship but it was inevitable that he would have to have sex with other people at some point. WHen he attempted a full blown relationship his partners usually folded through jealousy and the relationship always ended on bad terms. M was probably the only person in the world who knew what she was getting into.

“Then why give us a label?” Ice cream was slowly melting over his hand now so he licked it off. M turned to him and looked pitying? Worried? Why was reading her much more difficult than anyone else?

“To give you someone to come home to.” She had her hands in her coat pockets and shrugged. She couldn’t look him in the eye. Then she smiled. “And it will finally give me a reason to turn away the thousands of men lining up at my door to get a piece of me.”

“They don't know what they're missing. Come on, you soft get” he held his elbow out so that she could take his arm. “Let’s get you home.”

*

They returned to M’s apartment and as M unpacked her things, James sat on the arm of her sofa, watching. She always hung her coat up on the third hook even though the first two were always empty. And her shoes always went back in the exact same spot that they came from. Even though there was a phone on the table by the front door she never remembered to check her messages until long after she’d got home. James could see the answer machine blinking ‘01’ at him but he wouldn’t mention it to her. It would mess up her routine.

M put the kettle on with two mugs on the counter already waiting to be filled. As it bubbled away James called her over.

“I have something for you.”

M stood between his legs and he snaked his arms around her to pull her in for a warm kiss, her arms over his shoulders. He kept his arms clasped behind her.

“Look in my pocket.” He nodded to his right and looked at his jacket pocket. She reached down and pulled out a very small jewellery box.

“You’ve already nearly given me two heart attacks today. Proposing might just cause the third one and finally do me in” she cried. “I will learn to love your sense of humour one day.”

He chuckled. He wasn’t going to marry her. He wasn’t going to marry anyone, but he was pleased to see that she thought along the same lines as him.

“It’s not like that at all. Open it.” Still ensnared in his arms, M flipped open the box to reveal two pale blue, rustic earrings. The clips at the back had rusted slightly. “They were my grandmother’s. I thought they’d go perfectly with that opal necklace you had on a couple of days ago.”

She stared at them with her mouth slightly open then flicked her gaze up to him with the same stunned expression in her eyes.

“You can’t give this to me,” she stuttered. “I’m just a woman and these, these are heirlooms. From your family.”

“You are not _just_ a woman. You’re all the family I have now.”

M clicked the box shut and held it tightly in her fist as she laid her head onto his shoulders. James squeezed her tightly in an embrace. He had wanted to give her a gift and usually this would mean something pretty and expensive, but M was different. He didn’t want to spend lots of money on her; he wanted her to love him.

“Actually, I may have something for you too.” She drew back and he recognised that mischievous glint in her eye. “Give me a few minutes to cook something up.”

Expecting her to start bustling around the kitchen again, he was surprised to see her go to her bedroom and shut the door. When she returned a few minutes later she wore a long, black silk kimono and carried a small lilac shoe box.

She pushed open her bedroom door and held her arm up to guide him inside.

“Step into my office, Commander Bond,” she giggled.

When James reached her door he blinked twice to make sure he was seeing what he thought he saw. He couldn’t form thoughts or words but that was probably due to the huge rush of blood that had left his brain and amassed much lower down his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw James... He got it baaaaad! Especially now that M is about to introduce him to all those toys she mentioned earlier. Have a happy Friday!


	14. Chapter 14

There were candles. But that wasn’t the first thing he noticed. M had put on the earrings James had just given her. But that wasn’t very high up the list of things he noticed either. The curtains were half drawn, the bed covers were neatly folded at the end of the bed and along one side of her bed was an array of objects that James was itching to play with: a bullet vibrator, a rampant rabbit, a blindfold, and some heavy duty handcuffs. An empty chair was placed in the centre of the room and he hoped to god he’d be the one to sit there.

As he turned his attention back to the woman of his dreams he remembered the box she was holding. She offered it to him and he couldn’t hide the excitement in his face, nor in his groin. He wrestled it open and was surprised to find a small digital camera until everything clicked into place.

“I’d like to give you something in return,” she spoke softly, “but first you’re going to have to help me make it. The safeword is strawberries, not that you’ll need it.”

Only then did he see the small clawed tripod on a corner of her dressing table. She took the camera from him, attached it to the tripod and made sure that it was pointing directly at the empty chair. Beep. It was recording.

“You need your rest, 007. Why don’t you take a seat?” Her voice was strong and clear. It reminded him of the many times she had instructed him for a mission but this was a whole new kind of preparation. Looking forward to watching it back later, he played along.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” He sat down, bolt upright with his hands on his knees. Every nerve was alight watching her move. Her hands were behind her back and the silky kimono was still tightly wrapped around her front. His fingers twitched imagining taking off whatever he was going to find under there; stroking, teasing, pinching.

“You’ve done some excellent work recently, Bond,” she strode over to the bed and James couldn’t see what she was handling, “and I don’t want you to think it goes unnoticed.”

“You are a great credit to the service,” she said. M got on her knees to the side of him and lay one hand across the top of his. Her wide, innocent eyes delved into his and he didn’t want to look away. His whole arm relaxed at her touch, grateful to feel her gentle warmth near him, but the split second off his guard was all she needed. M’s other hand had been hidden and quickly snapped a handcuff onto his wrist below the sleeve of his jacket.

“However,” she continued, “I can’t allow you to become complacent.” She snaked her arm down his other side and tugged his free wrist behind the chair so that she could handcuff them together. It was as if James’ eyes were the camera. All he thought about was how it was going to look seeing himself undone by her, on her knees and using him. Without the use of his hands his eyes got hungrier. Unfortunately, M already knew that. She placed the blindfold over his eyes and whispered, “You will be aching to see this. It’ll be your favourite part.”

His senses immediately switched to what he could hear. He sensed she was still next to him but he couldn’t hear a thing. There was no rustling or buzzing, just the sounds of them breathing. His legs were desperate to be free from his trousers. Then he might be able to tell what the cloth was that M had just laid across them, although he guessed, and hoped, that it was the kimono.

The bed creaked. He tweaked his ear towards the noise and kept his breath steady, hoping to catch every moment. A sigh, a click, and then a never ending buzz.

“You are an excellent agent,” she said and then paused to take a breath. “But we mustn’t let it go to your head.”

That was a lie; it was going right to his head, although not the one she could currently see. He was frozen with his head to the side, determined not to move in case he missed a sound. The pitch of her vibrator wobbled as he guessed she was pressing it against herself. If she hadn’t handcuffed him, he would have ripped the blindfold off by now.

“You have made – mistakes, Bond,” she commented, struggling to stay quite so professional when her pleasure was building. “And we must work - together to ensure that such mistakes don’t affect the – working environment.”

How was she able to discuss work and make it sound like lurid filth? He’d make it up to her. He’d make it up to her in the ‘working environment’ if she wanted. Fuck at her desk, in her bathroom, anything she wanted, if only she’d take his blindfold off. 

“I cannot let your ego,” he heard the vibrator being pressed hard against her and she gasped for breath, letting out a small moan, “- run away with you. You are replaceable.”

Replaceable as an agent, perhaps, but not replaceable as a man. He did things to her no one else could and more so than ever he wanted to prove himself to her. The determination must have shown on his face.

“It is time you learned,” she moaned louder and James couldn’t hold his breath any longer. His heart rate was racing and all she’d said was he had a big ego. She whimpered as she tried to carry on, “that you must constantly, fuck, adapt to prove that you, yes, are worthy of me.”

The buzzing stopped and he heard her shuffle on the bed towards him as her panting got closer. He felt warmth near his face and recognised her hand but it smelt different, familiar. That was his Olivia. She trailed a finger over his lips and let him suck on it. It tasted just like he remembered her pussy to be. Thick and creamy and fuck, if she took off his blindfold he’d make her orgasm with just his eyes, he was sure of it. She withdrew her finger and shuffled back onto the bed.

“You are expendable.” He heard a lower buzzing noise than before and assumed she had picked up the larger vibrator, one that could just as easily have been his cock. 

She didn’t say another word. He was forced to sit there and listen to every groan and whimper and imagine what she was doing. He’d completely forgotten about the camera; he wanted to see her _now_. The slick sounds of her wet pussy were insatiable. He yanked his wrists away from each other as he tried to break the cuffs in two. His strength gave way to knowledge and he tried to slip out of them like he could with his own handcuffs, but it was impossible. He was stuck waiting for her to finish, imagining her biting her bottom lip and writhing on the bed, fucking her own pussy.

He recognised the screams that came with her orgasm crashing into her. “Oh fuck, James!” He was so disappointed not to be the one in control. She’d had an orgasm and he hadn’t been responsible for any of it. His cock, his tongue and his fingers awaited their turn and then her orgasm would be bigger and better than anything she could achieve on her own. That was what she wanted, he knew it, but he was only too happy to oblige. She could taunt him all she liked about being a disposable part of her team but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would be missed if he wasn’t there. 

It was just a game and because it was a game, it meant that someone was going to win. He soon realised that he had already won first prize.

His blindfold was torn away. He blinked his eyes to see her properly. Then he blinked again. She stood before him with her legs wide and a steely look in her eye; an ivory basque suspended to ivory stockings, tipped with excruciatingly high pale heels. 

And to top off her unique power pose, a short leather riding crop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That woman with a riding crop should be the staple of every fic ever. He can't expect to be untied yet though.


	15. Chapter 15

Seconds ago he was desperate to escape his prison and manhandle her into oblivion but now, now he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. He was stunned and not just because of her beauty. He had assumed she had sexy underwear on because she’d taken the care to hide it from him to begin with but he hadn’t thought it would be this colour. Maybe black because it’s dark and mysterious and covers all sins; or red because it’s fiery and tempting and full of lust; or white because it’s a symbol for innocence and she was far from that. 

Ivory was vintage and calming to him. He could see every laced detail on the basque even though it smoothly blended with her skin, contrasting with the dark curls that were totally uncovered below. It neatly separated her breasts rather than squashing them together and looked comfortable rather than lust inducing. Plus, the ivory accentuated the dark leather of the riding crop so it was achingly plain where it was at all times. _She_ looked comfortable and that was more inciting than any sinful red costume. 

So it was odd, he thought, that she should finish off her ethereal ensemble with such insanely high heels. They were not comfortable or practical.

She stalked over to him and bent over so that their faces were inches apart and he had a very clear view of her breasts. Her eyes fluttered down to glance at his raging erection pressing through his trousers and returned to his with a smile.

“Let’s see if you’ve learned your lesson, Mr Bond,” she said clearly so the camera would pick up every word. She got onto her knees between his legs and made a show of unbuttoning his trousers and removing his boxers. With his help, she wiggled them down to pool around his feet. Her lips were so close to his cock and now that it had lost the friction of his trousers, his cock was keen to find relief elsewhere. M stared at him, licked her lips but then stood before him again.

“I shall ask you a question. If you get it right then you receive a reward but get it wrong and you will be punished.”

He wasn’t sure how well he wanted to do on this test. He always strived to be the best of the best but he had a sneaking suspicion that failure would also be an agreeable option in this situation. It depended on the type of question, he supposed.

“Question one.” She stroked the end of the riding crop down his cheek as she asked. “When was the Walther PPK first released?”

Fuck. He had one, he knew how to clean it, he knew damn well how to fire it, but its history? He shook his head as she searched for an answer.

“Er.. Nineteen… twenty-one?”

“Fail.” She snapped the crop against the side of his leg at the top, as close to his arse as she could get. 

“And who invented it?”

“Well,” this seemed a little too obvious, “Mr Walther.”

“First name?”

Ah. He was German; he was sure it was first manufactured in Germany. Frank? No. Fri… Fritz. There was definitely a Fritz involved somewhere. He knew it.

“Fritz Walther.”

“Fail.” She snapped the crop again in the same place as before. The skin was turning an angry red but it had done nothing to abate his erection. He had suffered through many torturous missions but this was a new kind of torture. He desperately wanted a reward.

“What is my middle name?”

“Trick question. You have no middle name.”

Finally a subject he was well versed in. She slid onto her knees and caressed his cock with one hand before placing it in her mouth. She sank down all the way to the bottom until he was in her throat and slowly came back up, gasping for air. 

“Correct. What year did I become head of MI6?”

He was so lost at finally feeling something against his cock, something glorious no less, that he didn’t hear her question. She slapped him with the crop on the back of his legs, which soon brought his attention back.

“What year did I become head of MI6?”

“Thirteenth of November, 1995.” 

“Fail.” She slapped the crop against his bottom again but he was confused. It was exactly right, precisely right, there was no way he was wrong.

“I asked only for the year.” He was listening hard now. “What was I wearing before I had you chipped in the Bahamas?”

“Cream jacket, green shirt and a flowing green skirt that was asking me to fuck you.”

Again she got to her knees and sank down his cock, using one hand to fondle his balls as she did. He desperately wanted her to do it again but he wasn’t sure how much he could take.

“Correct. And for a bonus point,” she stayed on her knees peering up at him, “when is my birthday?”

He growled with anticipation. Easy. Far too easy. He had visions of her sucking his cock until he came down her throat this time so he took great delight in answering.

“It’s in eight weeks, three days, five hours and twelve minutes.”

M turned her head to look at the clock on her bedside table. She loved to be numerically precise. It was like her own intellectual foreplay. She stood up and James thought for a second that she was going to punish him. Instead she used the extra height of the heels to straddle him and stuff his cock into her pussy.

“Correct,” she whispered. Her personal play time earlier had prepared her for him nicely and yet she was still so tight around him. He nudged at her nose until she lifted her head and he was able to kiss her as far as his head would go. He felt his whole body turning to liquid. 

Then M started bouncing, using the height of the heels to push herself almost all the way off and sink right back down. Again and again she bounced on him, muttering his name under her breath. He wanted to have a palm on each of her arse cheeks to support her or to slam her down harder or maybe flick her clit but his wrists were still completely restrained. As he felt himself get closer to orgasm he yanked and pulled at the cuffs, his whole body full of unresolved tension.

Then she was coming again with no help from her toys, just him, and digging her nails into his back. He was her only toy. The tight throbbing contractions were blissful agony to his over eager cock and it was only when he saw the thoroughly wrecked and debauched look in M’s eyes that he went over the edge too. He could barely move from his seat but he writhed and thrust as much as he could, every wave of pleasure was desperate to stay inside her. M didn’t move and sat there for the ride.

When he settled down she reached behind and unlinked the handcuffs so his wrists were finally free. He flexed them before her. They looked sorely bruised and bled a little in some places but James sucked up the blood and smiled at her. Without warning he lifted her up, still holding her onto his cock, and carried her to the camera. She flicked off her shoes as she was lifted.

He stayed a couple of metres back from the camera so she couldn’t reach to turn it off. They both looked into the lens and smiled as the side of their faces squashed together in a tight hug. James pulled back to kiss her on the cheek and she giggled looking utterly blissed out.

M was wrong. When he watched the show back later, this would be his favourite part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just leave me here to stew for the next few hours. I can't get enough of these two!
> 
> And yesterday this fic hit 1000 views, which is insane to me. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy everything else that's in store for them!


	16. Chapter 16

His first clue was the trail of unwashed mugs left beside the sink. His second clue was that M was sleeping in the middle of the day. His final clue was that she wasn’t angry at how ridiculously late back he was.

Another day, another mission; he’d made a habit of always seeing her before officially checking in because it annoyed her so. She hated any circumnavigation of the rules, particularly ones that involved her, so he took every opportunity to exploit that. His original plan had been to surprise her by waiting for her to get home from work rather than the terror of waking her up in the dead of night as he'd wanted to. He didn’t want to scare her again but he did so enjoy being able to take control of her like that. He encouraged his mind not to wonder about the things they got up to, but seeing her lying there, mouth gaping open, it was hard not to form visions of deviancy. And yet here she was, not at work. Something was out of joint.

M was curled up in a tight ball, dozing on the sofa. A tartan blanket hung from her arm as if she’d been cuddled up with it and it had fallen away in her sleep, and tissues littered the floor. James’ heart melted. He carefully sat down next to her and replaced the blanket across her shoulders. She pulled it tight around herself. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and thought about how adorable she looked all snoodled up.

“James,” she croaked, “lemsip.” She puckered her lips and kissed the air which he took to mean “please”. 

“Of course,” he whispered. He put the back of his hand to her head and felt her burning up. He stroked his thumb across her cheek and tore himself away from her to make a lemsip. Judging by all the mugs, this wouldn’t be her first one of the day although, he couldn’t be sure how long she’d been like this; he hadn’t been in contact with her for more than three weeks. 

He returned a few minutes later with a steaming mug of lemsip and saw she’d managed to roll onto her back and meekly peer at him beneath half closed eyelids. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled. She was bunged up and had a chesty cough but her puffy eyes made her look ever so cute. “I’m dying.”

“Not yet you’re not, you old tart,” James chuckled. 

“I think I can see the light. I feel the cold hand of death reaching out to me and I welcome its righteous touch,” she said. “I’m about to kick the bucket.”

James rolled his eyes at her melodrama and saw a slight smirk from M. If she was close to death she still found time to wind him up. More so than usual perhaps.

“Come on you, let me get you into bed,” James said as he rested his hand on her leg.

“Mr Bond,” she said matter-of-factly, which made her cough, “if you put that monster cock in my mouth I will suffocate and _die_.”

“I meant to sleep, you cheeky-“ he started. M was giggling at him again. 

“Right. That’s it. I will deal with you later,” he maneuvered himself to kneel in front of her. “But first we have to make you better.”

He slid his arms under her legs to carry her and she draped her arms around his neck, still grabbing the blanket tightly. She was dressed in a smart shirt and skirt with stockings, highly overdressed for collapsing on the sofa, he thought. Apparently she had tried to go into work and James suspected that she had been sent home by a rather worried Chief of Staff. 

He laid her on the bed and went in search of some pyjamas for her. He found some silky red ones in a drawer and judging by her sprawled state he would have to do this himself. He started by peeling down her stockings and then undid the zip on the side of her skirt which he had to wrestle out from under her. She stirred.

“You can’t resist but cop a feel. You have such a one track mind, James. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

He thought of several spiky responses before reminding himself that she was in a dreary state. He didn’t want to use his best lines if she wasn’t going to remember that he’d won the argument. Instead he responded by wiggling on her pyjama bottoms before working on her shirt buttons.

“You have such a gentle touch,” she muttered. “A lady’s touch. Is there something I should know?”

She was going the right way for a smacked bottom but he kept his emotions in control and attempted to thread her pyjama shirt onto each arm.

“You’re James Bond. You like ladies. Maybe you’re turning into one. You are what you eat.”

Whatever had addled her brain had clearly left her sense of humour untouched. Feeling his restraint ebbing away he bent his head down and sucked hard on one of her nipples to try and snap her out of it. It did nothing of the sort.

“That’s the spirit,” she said as she rolled onto her side. “Do what you want, just don’t wake me up.”

“I’m going to take care of you tonight,” he said, pulling the duvet up to her waist, “and then in a few days’ time I’ll get you back for all this. I can’t have you teasing me without retribution. That’ll give you something to look forward to.” Judging by her long drawn out breaths she had long since stopped listening to him and fallen asleep.

James left a kiss in her hair and removed himself to the kitchen to start clearing up. He did the washing up, marigolds and all, and even found himself wiping down her surfaces. When he’d done all he could he sat at the foot of M’s bed and watched her sleep. She looked much more comfortable in her own bed. James found the steady rising of her long breaths very therapeutic. He snaked his hands underneath the duvet and caressed her feet. She didn’t pull away from him so he used his thumbs to rub her soles and press into her toes. She had such delicate little feet. 

There was a knock at the door. As he stopped rubbing her feet she flexed her toes as if to encourage him to keep going but he gave them one last squeeze. Grateful they hadn’t rung the bell, he went to answer the door and discovered an anxious looking Tanner on the doorstep.

“Ah, Bond. The mission was a success then I take it?” He let himself into the apartment.

“Keep your voice down,” he hushed. “She’s sleeping.”

“And you are…?” Tanner was eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Nurse James,” he whispered. “I’m looking after her.”

“I’m not sure what medical degree you’ve got but she needs rest, not a knobbing from an agent.”

James was a little taken aback by Tanner’s statement. Did he really believe he was using her like everyone else? He had always enjoyed his flirty reputation but he was beginning to see it ran much deeper than first thought.

“I made her a hot drink, put her to bed, cleaned her apartment and gave her a foot rub,” he growled. “Does the doctor approve?”

Tanner eyed James as if he’d never seen him before. James shoved his hands into his pockets and frowned until Tanner had the decency to enlighten him. He felt like he was in trouble. What the fuck had he done this time, he wondered.

“Very well,” was all Tanner said. He made his way back to the front door and left his hand on the latch without opening it. “Bond, do you remember back in Sweden ’99 what you said to that woman you were with, albeit you were with her _briefly_?”

He couldn’t even picture her face, or name her, let alone remember what he’d said whilst seducing her. He did remember that they’d tried a relationship and, as always, she got jealous and left him. She was just like any one of a hundred women. He wasn’t sure what this had to do with making M a lemsip.

“She said she wasn’t happy and you told her that you didn’t care about her happiness, only your own.” Tanner opened the door and walked out onto the pavement. “If that stance has changed then it may be worth pondering why.”

Tanner nodded and swept away down the street. Subtle as always. 

He didn't need to ponder. James knew exactly why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a bit of a rough week and therefore required fluff. 
> 
> M is always such a tease though, I can't help it! When she's better James will keep her in order... Or at least attempt to...


	17. Chapter 17

It was a vicious illness but thankfully a short one. M had enjoyed having James play nurse for her and even in her drugged up state she remembered some of the things he’d done for her. Foot rubs, hot baths, he even read to her one evening although she suspected he just wanted company and that was the closest thing to conversation he was going to get out of her. He checked in on her every morning and every evening all but once. The final time he had climbed into bed with her, still fully dressed, and just held her. No sex, no sensual touching, just sleep. The next thing she knew it was morning and James was making his excuses to leave.

She could see what was happening to him and when the realisation hit him it was going to strike like a brick wall. M wasn’t worried. She’d seen it happen to lots of men before but this was the first time she had expected someone like James to succumb. She was interested to see how he’d handle it; judging by the way he scarpered when he realised he’d slept next to a woman without touching her up, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

M opened the door to her office and smiled at her desk piled in paperwork. Tanner had done his best to hold the fort without her but there were many things that could only be sorted by her touch. She relished sitting in her chair again and pulled the first array of papers towards her.

“Good morning, Ma’am,” Moneypenny smiled cheerfully. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Thank you. Anything I should know?” It was inevitable. MI6 didn’t have ‘quiet’ days.

“Not really, Ma’am. Many of those are reports of what’s happened recently. Most won’t require your attention but Tanner asked me to be thorough in your absence.” M saw the titles on some of the memos: _Meeting with Transport Minister, Appropriation of Budget for Administration_. Nothing caught her eye. “I would advise beginning with the fourth one down.”

Moneypenny’s eyes gave a knowing smile. M flicked to the fourth file and saw _Misappropriation of Funds by SIS Officer_.

“What’s he done this time?” Reckless destruction and decadent spending had James Bond written all over it.

“Nothing terrible,” Moneypenny smiled more. “I think you’ll enjoy it. You have a meeting scheduled with 007 at ten.”

Moneypenny bowed out of the office leaving M to read about what the mice had gotten up to whilst the cat was away.

*

“Care to enlighten me, 007?”

“It was all necessary equipment, Ma’am,” he drawled. He sat sulkily in front of her with his legs spread wide and slouching slightly in the chair. Typically this would have been a display of male dominance, however-

“There are no active missions and absolutely no undercover operations requiring your attention,” she sniped. “There is no conceivable reason to charge your attire to your employer. Don’t we pay you enough?”

“This was all upon your encouragement, Ma’am.” James flicked back his head to remove a long blonde lock from his face. “Don’t you remember what you said on that first night, about me being a woman?"

She felt a flicker of rememberance but nothing solid.

"I told you I’d get you back," he finished darkly.

She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or shout. His fake breasts looked particularly impressive however he hadn’t just stopped there. He had a full face of make-up on (a little brazen, she thought) and had somehow managed to find size twelve heels. He wore clip on pearl earrings and a gold chain necklace, and his nail varnish was acid red whilst his lipstick was a gentle pink. She had much to teach him, she mused. James continued to smirk at her.

“What benefit did you envisage this would earn you?” she quipped.

“Just the look on your face when I came through the door. You can’t take that back.” He fluttered his longer-than-usual lashes and gave her a peak at his powder blue eye shadow. With his legs held wide she could see he had gone as far as wearing some lacy Brazilian knickers and she was dismayed to find that they were very familiar. They _had_ belonged to her although there was no way she would fit in them now. If anything she was impressed he could squeeze himself into them.

He was right, of course. She couldn’t change the past but she would have a strong hand in his future.

“I knew this would come in useful one day.” M unlocked a bottom drawer at her desk and rummaged right to the back. On her desk she laid James’ favourite riding crop. “I know exactly what you want and I intend to give you every inch that you deserve.”

He idly played with the chain around his neck.

“Take that off,” she pointed at his flowery dress, “and bend over.”

James stood up and wobbled slightly on one of the heels. He removed all of his clothing until he was left with the lacy knickers and jewellery, and positioned himself next to M who stood waiting for him, flexing the crop in her hands. His every strut oozed masculinity but if he wished to be treated as a woman that was what he would receive.

James held onto the desk and watched as M drew her arm back. She saw his backside tense in anticipation.

“And 007,” she said dryly, “try not to get too excited. If you tear the lace you will be buying me a new pair for every day of the year.”

THWACK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how they find the time to get any work done... but she's had that crop in her desk for a while now so it's only fair she gets a chance to use it.


	18. Chapter 18

M knew he had intended to embarrass her and perhaps wanted her to question why she was with him. It was more than just a silly prank; it was the beginning of James attempting a multitude of things to try and stop his heart working so fast. He must be scared but the whole situation tickled M. She was much more than he bargained for. For every stunt he pulled she would remind him tenfold why she was utterly irresistible. Try as he might, resistance was futile. 

Every thwack was smarting into a delicate pink line across his backside. She could see it through the lace which she hadn’t bothered to make him remove. She hoped he might feel humiliated what with M fully clothed in a trouser suit and him in nothing but women’s underwear. He was going to get the full experience.

She gave him one last thwack before getting to her knees and sliding the lace down so she could bite the sore parts. James keened. She soothed him by kissing and licking every burning inch and stroked her hand along his crotch. His steadily hardening cock was still contained but if he got too excited it would easily tear the fabric. His eyes were screwed shut in concentration, which M assumed meant he was trying desperately hard not to be aroused by the situation. 

She put the underwear back in place and leant over his back. Her chest didn’t cover very far but the effect of being behind him was all she was after. 

“You've been very bad... _boy_ ,” which she knew was the ultimate tease. He wasn’t “sir” or “commander” now. Just “boy”. M watched him squirm slightly. He didn’t stand a chance. She unbuckled her trousers and pushed everything to her ankles before sitting back on her office chair. She nodded towards her crotch, sounding like the height of indifference, “get to work.”

He looked relieved. He was probably grateful not to be getting any direct attention, however M still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

He knelt in front of her and lightly kissed her sex. He soon teased his tongue between her folds. He was almost right underneath her desk so if anyone came in they would have no idea what was going on. 

“I didn’t lock the door. Anyone might come in and see you on your knees. You like being on your knees for me, don’t you? Slut.” Every derogatory term a man had ever thrown at her during oral sex was coming out of her now. 

“I can make you do anything for this pussy, can’t I?” James kept his eyes closed and continued licking. “Can’t I?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” his desperate eyes found hers. His voice was strained and he dived right back to work before she could tease him any longer. She pushed his head hard into her pussy. M started to whimper at his touch and she delighted in seeing his eyes blaze at every one of her moans.

“Fuck me with your fingers,” she ordered, her voice not quite so silky any more. He did as he was told and pushed and prodded until his finger tip found her entrance. As he eased himself inside her she let out a long sigh that James echoed. He loved to hear her make noises like that and, thinking about all the types of underwear he would have to buy her, she made sure to let him hear every note.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she gasped. James kept his fingers thrusting in and out of her but withdrew his mouth.

“Fuck,” he breathed. He looked more wrecked than she did. “Let me touch myself, please.”

“No,” she chimed, “you insolent boy. Only well behaved boys are allowed that.” Her act was making him wild, even more so because he seemed determined not to be aroused, and in return M was getting closer and closer to orgasm. She could feel the warmth spreading and urged him to finish her off.

“Go on, make me come, bitch,” she breathed. James slid another finger inside her and the pressure built even more. Moneypenny would know exactly what was going on and it was the thought of someone seeing James in this position that tipped her over the edge. Every squeezing twitch of her walls held James inside her tighter and he didn’t know if he wanted to watch her debauched face or her throbbing pussy. M always loved teaching him a lesson, particularly when the teacher got rewarded like this. Slowly she came down from the high and James withdrew his fingers. 

His mouth and chin were soaking wet so he wiped his arm across his face and stood up proudly in front of her. As she had suspected, the knickers were a lost cause. He was hard as a rock. 

“Thank you,” she muttered as she pulled her trousers back up. “You can see yourself out.”

He looked mutinous and disbelieving but it was just a game to her. Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen.

“Come over for dinner tonight and we can discuss what you shall be purchasing from now on.” She gave his crotch a telling look and shut herself in her bathroom to clean up. Hopefully he’d realise that this meant the game wasn’t over yet.

She splashed water on her face, wanting to give him time to calm down and put his outfit back together. If he had started the day dressed like that, she damn well hoped he was going to finish it like that too. She wondered what excuses he might have given his colleagues for wearing a dress to work. A punishment from her? Training for covert operations? All he had wanted was to wind her up and yet he was in her office more wound up than ever. 

M teased the door open to check if the coast was clear. James hadn’t put any clothes back on yet. Instead he was sat on her chair furiously masturbating.

As he came into a tissue, she thought she heard the ghost of “Olivia” escape from his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silk ones, and lace ones, and crotchless ones, and granny ones, and ribboned ones, and thong ones and vibrating ones... James has to go shopping now! He may not understand his feelings but he definitely knows how to spend money.


	19. Chapter 19

“Here.”

James threw a box unceremoniously across M’s breakfast bar. She was relieved to see him looking more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt.

“And what is this?” she asked as she sipped at a glass of red wine.

“The first three of 365 presents, Ma’am,” he said as he sat down on one of her breakfast bar stools.

“Don’t you ‘Ma’am’ me! I can have you killed,” she smarted. She took the box and pulled off the lid. Inside were three pairs of bright red knickers. The first one she pulled out was nothing more than a piece of string. “Not exactly what you’d call practical, are they?”

“Keep digging,” he said, a small smirk peaking at the edge of his mouth.

Underneath was a pair of what could only be called granny pants. They were 100% cotton and were about as sexy as a disease-ridden badger.

“Is this a new kind of fetish I haven’t heard about?” She quickly discarded them in search of the final pair. James seemed most eager about them. The look on his face told her that the other two were just a distraction. Before she pulled them out she had already decided she would wear them.

They were satin and silky soft. At both sides there was a thin ribbon tied in a bow so that one tug would send them tumbling down. M held them in front of her pinched between her thumb and forefinger. She brandished them as if they were filthy.

“Something you expect me to wear?”

“I’d very much like to see you in it,” he said quietly. 

She regarded him for a moment before snatching up the whole box and heading towards her bedroom.

“Alright then, James,” she said flashing her eyes up at him, “you wait here.”

She padded to her bedroom and left the box on the dressing table. That last pair was quite inviting. She could see herself wearing those on a normal day and letting James see the ribbon poking over the top of her skirt until he couldn't wait any longer and had to ravish her no matter what the location. She stored that idea away for a rainy day. 

M removed her jacket and trousers before unbuttoning her shirt. Her nipples tingled with excitement. She imagined James waiting for her in her kitchen and seeing the hungry look in his eye when she presented herself to him. She could tease him, make him wait, cover herself up at first, but she wasn’t in the mood for power games tonight. Instead she wanted unrelenting attention.

As she removed her bra her nipples hardened at her deviant thoughts. She placed her palms over them to soothe them and then set about switching into her new underwear. When they were fastened on she stood in front of the mirror to admire herself. There were bulges and wrinkles where she didn’t want to see them but the main attraction was undoubtedly what was hidden beneath the red satin. It gave her a new found confidence in her body. She ran her hands down her sides and pulled a cheeky Marilyn Monroe pose, giggling at herself. She wasn’t a slim, nubile twenty-two year old but she felt effortlessly sexy.

M put on her most sultry walk and impishly returned to James who awaited her return to the kitchen. He was just where she left him: swinging on a stool with his legs together pivoting on the floor. When she came round the corner in nothing but the red knickers he stopped and looked her top to bottom. She bit her bottom lip, padding softly over to him and stood with her legs either side of his. 

“I must say, Miss Mansfield,” he said, looking at everything on show except her eyes, “you scrub up well.”

He held her close by the small of her back and drew a long kiss from her lips. He fingered the tied ribbon on either side of her hips but he didn’t undo them just yet. Her heart skipped a beat as she anticipated them falling away but his fingers glided to the rear and he squeezed large handfuls of her arse. 

M didn’t have to do anything and yet she was still driving him wild. He pushed her backwards.

“Let me look at you,” he whispered.

A year ago there wouldn’t be a fibre of her being that would believe someone would enjoy looking at her body. She had it kept under wraps and was very rarely naked for the sake of being naked. But James was devouring every inch of her with his eyes. They trailed up her legs and spent quite a long time on what she called ‘sagging’ and he called her ‘voluptuous’ breasts. His eyes fixed onto her new knickers and he slid onto his knees. She held in a smile as she pictured James buying these for her and imagining her in them before he paid for them. She was very much looking forward to the next 362 days.

James crawled over to her. His submissive pose was electrifying. He rested his chin just below her belly button and looked straight up at her. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered tenfold at his gaze. He left light kisses around her midriff and used his hands to squeeze her thighs and pull her legs apart slightly. She was getting impatient but as the tension grew so did her arousal. His hands tugged at her thighs but never reached the point where she most wanted relief. WHy couldn't he just touch her through the fabric? Just one stroke is all it would take. She was aching to feel him on her sex.

He kissed down one side until his teeth met one of the ribbons. Her eyes met his. He slowly tugged away until the knot was undone and the ribbon ends hung limply at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who needs plot anyway? I now have 365 excuses to have them doing filthy, filthy things to each other. 
> 
> This week will be a good week, I feel.


	20. Chapter 20

M carried a large bundle of documents through the corridors of MI6 and shouldered her way into her office. James was idly sat swinging round in her chair behind the desk. M’s jacket was hanging off the back where she’d left it earlier.

“Ah, Mr Bond. Eyeing up the quiet life of a desk job already I see.”

She was hardly surprised to see him crossing professional boundaries these days and discovering him hiding in her office was just another one of those things. Actually, she had been hoping to get him alone again after the previous night’s antics.

The ribboned knickers were an instant hit and had resulted in three separate orgasms for her as well as an imprint on her eyelids of James’ face when she first stepped out. But she suspected the knickers had more power to exhaust and who better to try that out on than James Bond. His favourite bit had been the ribbon in the teeth thing and so she spent all morning cooking up a situation where she might see that hungry look from him again.

And here he was.

“You didn’t respond to my good morning text,” he whined. “Thought you might be dead.”

“Petulant child,” she quipped. “I’ve yet to see ‘shagged to death’ written on a post mortem but I’m sure if it does happen to someone that you’ll have had something to do with it.” 

He didn’t seem to have any reply to that. James was probably just lonely and wanted to spend time with her so she figured she had better make it worth his while. He was almost as insatiable as she was. 

She turned to her large bookcase and reached up as high as she could and pulled down any book she could get her hands on. It didn’t matter which. As she extended her arm her blouse stretched out above her skirt so that a bit of skin was showing at her hips. A bit of skin, and a slip of red ribbon.

“Hmm,” she heard behind her. 

So he’d noticed then. Phase one complete. She held the book in her hands, which happened to be titled _Law Enforcement Ethics_ and turned to face him. There wasn’t really a plan for phase two unless he instigated it first. She felt a bit silly holding the book, waiting for him to speak but he was mulling something over and appeared to be mentally undressing her with his eyes. She wasn’t entirely sure if that was just how he always looked at her.

“Is that wise?” he mewled. “I think someone’s been thinking about me.”

He got up and stood inches away from her.

“Minx,” he said.

He removed the book from her hands and threw it onto her desk. She stood perfectly still as he leant over and pulled her blouse up so he could see the ribbon again. He had taken it hook, line and sinker.

“Are you trying to get me sacked?” he growled.

“Considering the circumstances,” she said quietly, “your next move may propel you towards a pay rise.”

He knelt down in front of her and ran his hands up her bare legs. She quivered with anticipation. His fingers trailed under skirt and up her thighs until-

“You cheeky-“ he cried. She giggled. “This is not what I bought you.”

He lifted her skirt up so he could see for himself what she had on.

“Yes, it is,” she started. “They might look a little different to when you first purchased them however.”

She had attached the tantalising strings of ribbon to both sides of the hideous granny pants just to see what he’d do. He looked mutinous.

“Right, come here you!”

She chuckled and ran behind her desk. He chased her around the office until he backed her into a corner and lifted her whole body up and dumped her back in her chair. She was laughing heartily now and couldn’t find any strength to fight him off because she was having too much fun. He was crouched on the floor between the chair and the desk.

“No, it’s no use,” he cried. “They’ll have to come off.”

She screamed with laughter as he ducked his head under her skirt and tugged the knickers down her legs with no sly technique; he was keen to remove them as quickly as possible.

The door to her office opened suddenly and Moneypenny burst in. James froze. M nudged at James until he was firmly under her desk and she pulled her chair right up so Moneypenny would have no idea that one Mr James Bond was hiding underneath holding M’s underwear.

“Is everything alright, Ma’am? You sounded in distress.”

“Of course, Moneypenny,” her voice was icy cold. It was the only thing she could do when she was dying to burst out laughing. “I was just reading this and found it quite amusing.”

Moneypenny looked at the upside down _Law Enforcement Ethics_ book and gave an unconvincing nod. 

“I wouldn’t have thought law enforcement was a laugh a minute. But as long as you’re okay, Ma’am.”

She wasn’t okay. James had snaked his hand up her leg and was gently stroking her folds. Remember your training, she thought, remember your training. Moneypenny was just leaving when James pushed a wet finger into her hole causing M to gasp.

“Ah-… Moneypenny,” she tried to cover it up.

“Yes, Ma’am?”

Shit, now she had to think of something to ask for. She wanted to fuck this boy senseless but Moneypenny couldn’t help with that. James was teasing her slowly by not letting his finger go too deep and occasionally rubbing the skin around her clitoris.

“Would you,” she paused to take a breath as James found her sweet spot, “do me a favour?”

What she needed was more time, time to think. Send her away, she thought, just get her far away from here.

“Could you find something for me?” she asked, getting flustered. James withdrew his fingers entirely and she relaxed. Finally. 

“Of course, Ma’am.” It was her job after all but M had to stall her somehow. Unfortunately, James had changed tack. She felt her skirt being pushed up to her waist and awaited the inevitable warmth that followed.

“Not something, someone,” she said quickly. She needed to say it before-- there it was. James kissed and nudged at her clitoris, slowly swirling his tongue around it. He couldn’t move his head very much what with the roof of the desk in the way but his tongue was more than capable of reaching its destination. 

Moneypenny stared at her waiting for her to continue.

“Can you find Bond for me? Send him up, soon as you can.” Her voice sounded much more relaxed than she felt. James’ tongue was sliding up and down her slit, dipping as far inside as it could reach and flicking her nub when it got the chance.

“Yes, Ma’am. Although he’s probably on an extended lunch break. You know Bond; he loves eating out,” she said.

She felt James’ head bob beneath her and heard a quiet snort from him. She squeezed her legs together around his face to remind him that he needed to shut the fuck up.

“Quite,” she drawled. “You may go.”

Moneypenny turned on her heel and swiftly left the room. Only when the door was firmly shut did M push back her chair and see the impish (and glistening) grin from the man below her.

“I’m having second thoughts about that pay rise. That was _not_ funny.” Actually, she thought it was hilarious but it had also been a bit dangerous. He wouldn’t care but she didn’t want to taint her clean slated record.

James’ reply came in the form of resuming his position with his lips clamped to her pussy. As she neared orgasm she made sure to muffle her moans. It would be rude to disturb James whilst he was having lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was so much fun. It's Dusty's birthday so we need excitement!
> 
> I have a sneaking suspicion that Moneypenny knew _exactly_ what she was talking about and will soon be endlessly taunting Bond.


	21. Chapter 21

M later discovered that James was in her office to deliver another box of underwear but somehow they’d gotten distracted. She was pleased that even in her later years she still had the power to firstly seduce James and secondly to physically enjoy it.

She rifled through the box and chose a lacy black pair that looked like they might even be halfway comfortable. And then she did what anyone in her situation would do: she left work early to break into his home, strip her clothes off and wait for him there. That was the plan anyway.

She’d managed to get up to his front door easy enough but she struggled to open his lock. This may have been something to do with her being out of practise but she hoped it may also have something to do with James having stronger locks than most. She jigged her lock picking kit but the two pieces of metal were entirely reluctant to do what she asked. Every so often she checked that no one was coming and simply slammed her weight into the door. No use. If she waited much longer James would return home.

Laughing at herself for even thinking it, she began searching for a spare key. James Bond would not be foolhardy enough to leave a spare key right outside his front door. Where would it be? Under the mat?

She pulled back the mat and there it was. There was a key under his mat. She looked at the number on the door to ensure she had the right place. Was she in the wrong building? She picked up the key and found a note with it.

_Took you long enough. Come on in, Oli._

She rolled her eyes, put the key in the lock and let herself in.

“This is a bit early for a home visit,” James quipped from the kitchen.

“If you knew I was out there, why didn’t you let me in?” she cried. “And this is company time; you should be in the office.”

“So should you.” He was giving her that smirk that irritated her so. “So why would my employer be attempting to break in to my home?”

“You’ve done it to me often enough. Not so pleasant, is it?”

She was avoiding the question and he knew it. He stood up with his hands in his pockets and sauntered across to her.

“When I break in to your home it’s because I want to ravish every inch of you. So I’ll ask again. Why are you attempting to break into my home?”

He was very close to her now. He removed his hands from his pockets and slid them around her waist.

“Well?” he sighed, “Ma’am?”

“To wear this for you.” She rummaged in her coat pockets and brought out the knickers. “And this.” From her other pocket she drew a bundle of thin black rope but James continued to look at her expectantly. “… Sir.”

She saw the flash of fire in his eyes and saw him quickly cover it up. 

“Let me help you with that,” he said. He took the bundles from her hands and put them in his trouser pocket before he removed her jacket. He unbuttoned her shirt and peeled it away from her. She felt powerless watching him undress her but by now he’d more than earned her trust.

He kept his body close to hers as he undid every button and tugged at every clasp. M felt her heart beating and wondered if he could hear it attempting to escape. Soon she was utterly exposed and James stood back to admire her. He drank her in and shook his head with pleasure.

“I think you want this.” He knelt down and placed the knickers at her feet. He threaded her legs through them and pulled them up to her waist so she barely had to move a muscle. She was willingly under his complete control. 

“Thank you, Commander Bond,” she whispered. “Permission to get on my knees?”

“Permission granted,” he mewled. His trousers were tented but she was never going to let him take them off. His suit was his emblem of power and it was undeniably responsible for turning her into putty at that moment.

She leaned down to help herself to her knees. It’d be much easier getting down now than it would with her hands tied and she silently hoped that James would help her back up again. 

M held her wrists forward and innocently peered up at him.

“Please sir, I’ve been such a naughty girl.”

He crouched down in front of her and wrapped the rope around her wrists leaving a line at the end that he could keep hold of.

“It’s wrong to break into people’s homes.” He stood up and circled her. She played the part and hung her head. “You must always get permission first.” He walked round and round. “Otherwise you will be punished. Do you understand?”

He was stationary behind her but she made sure he wouldn’t miss the solemn nod of her head. 

“Good.” He put his arms under hers and pulled her up to standing. Her knees were grateful only to be down a short time. James leant back against his sofa. “Face me.”

She did as she was told and noticed that she couldn’t see one of his hands. It was buried between the back of the sofa and a cushion.

“Put your hands here.” He indicated a spot near to where his hidden hand lay. She was itching to find out what was there. “We’re going to play a little game, you and I. Don’t worry, you’ve played it before.”

She looked at him, puzzled. Unless he meant Sudoku or solitaire she wasn’t sure what he meant. That was, until he brought his hand away from the sofa and revealed her dark leather riding crop.

“I’m going to ask you a question. Get it right and you get a reward but get it wrong and…” he pulled back the crop and let it slap against the sofa. It gave a satisfying thwack. 

She resolutely decided right there and then that she didn’t want to get a single question right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure which one of them I want to be most: James doling out the punishment or M receiving it.
> 
> M isn't going to do very well on this test at all...


	22. Chapter 22

“When was Smiert Spionam founded?”

“1967,” M said quietly.

THWACK.

“Who was the head of Smersh in 1956?”

She paused.

“General Gorbachev.”

THWACK.

James let a feral grin cross his lips. M was learning how difficult it is to think when a hot blooded partner lies threateningly behind you, ready to pounce on your every sexual need. All she had to do was get a question right.

“Which crisis instigated the Cold War?”

“Vietnam war.”

James drew his arm back to slap the crop against her backside again but he was confused. She really ought to have known the answer to that one. She got it wrong; he cracked the crop again. M breathed in sharply.

Several neat pink lines were forming on her cheeks below the line of her knickers and James desperately wanted to soothe them with his hands but until she got one correct he would have to keep punishing her. 

“When did MI6 move into the current HQ?”

“1989.”

She oversaw the transition personally. THWACK. 

She was purposely winding him up and getting the answers wrong, and knowing this made his cock twitch. M squirmed as her backside flashed up at him, keen for relief, and he was aching to give it to her. He wanted to press a warm palm against the tender areas and the more he thought about it, he’d rather press his warm lips there instead. She would moan and he would try not to leak any more into his trousers.

“Who’s the head of MI6?”

“Richard Branson.”

James growled in frustration and slapped her backside again. M was breathing hard and pressed her thighs together to find some friction for her pussy. Watching her insolent performance turned him wild.

“What is my name?”

“Daniel.”

THWACK. She cried out half in pain and half with relief. He took a step closer to her and delivered every word carefully.

“What is my name?”

“Daniel,” she said again. He brought the crop down even harder against her, again and again and again. 

He bent over her back and pressed his erect cock against her side. He needed relief as much as she did. He silently begged her to give in. This game was supposed to undo her, not him. He leant over and growled into her ear. 

“What is my name?”

They were both breathing heavily. M’s eyes were closed. 

She leant her head back and whispered, ”James.”

The crop fell from his hand and he placed both his palms across M’s backside. Her breath hitched. James pushed his crotch firm against her to satisfy his need for the time being and then got to his knees behind her. She remained firmly where she was: hands tied up and resting on the sofa.

James gently kissed every tender area on her cheeks, feeling the white hot fire that he’d created on her. He kissed his way down towards her sex and buried his mouth there. He pulled aside the crotch of her underwear and saw her glistening and gleaming curls; he’d never seen her so wet. She’d be ready to have him right now but James still had plans. 

He dipped the tip of his finger inside her and brought it back out, admiring the creamy gleam. He stood up slowly and placed it in her mouth. As she sucked on it, James felt her tongue circle the tip before letting go.

“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he mewled.

“Yes, sir,” she said clearly. 

“Now it’s time for your reward. Come with me.”

James picked up the end of rope by her hands and led her to his bedroom. He made M lie on her tender back and raise her arms above her head. He used the end length of rope to tie her hands to his headboard before he struck away her knickers and she was left naked.

M was rubbing her thighs together again, desperate for friction and relief. She squirmed over the bed and James thought he had no choice but to unbutton his fly and release his cock through the gap created at the top of his trousers. The breath of fresh air alone was enough to cool his ache for a short while.

He turned round ensuring that M couldn’t see what he was doing and picked up a bullet vibrator from a nearby drawer. He clicked it on before she could see it. 

Her eyes locked with his and as he came closer she lifted her head to watch him. He settled himself between her legs and lightly stroked the buzzing vibrator across her belly. She whimpered and tugged at her restraints.

“Settle down,” he soothed. “There’s a good girl.”

He brought the vibrator sliding up her thigh but never let it reach the place she wanted it most. M tried to keep her muscles relaxed but she couldn’t stem the sigh of relief from escaping her lips. This time he drew it through her curls and against the hood of her clit. M bucked into it in an instant. Everything was so sensitive.

James circled the vibrator gently around her belly button as he brought out his tongue and licked the length of her pussy. 

She writhed again and let out a guttural cry that made James’ cock beg to be inside her. But he wouldn’t give in yet. 

“You must be quiet,” he ordered. She bit her bottom lip hard but said nothing.

He licked her again and again, all the time trailing the vibrator across her skin but never letting it touch her sex. He loved tasting her cream. She tugged her arms away from his head board, franticly trying to touch herself but James was completely in control and was keeping her on the edge of orgasm. Unable to release the deep moans James was eliciting in her, she stifled quick gasps and let the energy release itself through her body instead.

She writhed and squirmed and held onto short gasps of breath as James licked up and down her pussy. Then it happened. He sucked hard on her clit and she juddered into orgasm, not allowing a cry to burst from her lungs. 

She rolled onto her side with her knees towards her chest, breathing heavily. From this position her pussy was presented to James perfectly. Glistening, wet, throbbing, and his own cock had waited so patiently. He couldn’t help but crawl up the bed and, without removing any clothing, nudge his tip against her entrance. He didn’t push into her, instead he bent down to kiss M’s sweaty forehead and waited for the green light.

M glanced at him with an exhausted smile and gave a short nod.

He let out a long, satisfied groan as he pushed his way inside her, feeling her walls stretch to accommodate him. 

“Good girl,” he breathed. He was still fully clothed and his tie brushed against the side of M’s thigh. He’d never taken her from this position before. With her on her side with her legs clamped shut there was even more pressure around his cock than usual. M looked utterly wrecked and yet she let out gentle sighs when he pushed into her. 

In less than ten gentle thrusts he was coming inside her and M was smiling broadly with her eyes shut. 

“I love-“ he breathed, “- doing that to you.”

Those weren’t the first words on the tip of his tongue.

“Let’s do that again,” he said.

“Tomorrow,” she whispered. “Or maybe in a year or two. I may never fully recover.”

Before withdrawing himself, he reached up and untied her hands. Her wrists were rubbed raw from her incessant wriggling about and he left light kisses along each graze. 

James went to the bathroom to clean himself up and returned to find M in almost the exact position he left her in. He laid a blanket across her, removed his jacket and tie, and snuggled up behind her.

Neither of them awoke until breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think he'd make her eggs for breakfast. Maybe with some sort of energy bar...


	23. Chapter 23

M may have been awoken by the lacking presence in her bed. Or she may have been awoken by the banging and clanging noises. She was actually awoken by the out of tune (and yet oh so enthusiastic) singing of Donna Summer’s ‘Love to Love You Baby’ coming from a very perky James Bond who was bustling around the kitchen.

“Oooooh, love to love ya, babeh!”

He was swaying and dancing, wearing nothing but an apron, waving a fish slice around as a microphone and intermittently using it to nudge away at the scrambled egg frying in a pan.

M leant against the wall and mustered up her best what-in-god’s-name-do-you-think-you’re-doing-007 face and waited. A wide cheeky grin spread across his face when he turned around and spied her.

“Dance with me,” he cried. He swept across to M and waltzed her across the kitchen with the fish slice clamped between both their hands. She giggled. James twirled her under his arm with one hand and checked on breakfast with the other. M reached up and placed a kiss on the side of his cheek which caused James to pull her closer to him and draw a long kiss from her lips. His free hand idly stirred at the scrambled eggs although unknowingly his hand was about a foot away from the pan.

“It appears I’m far too much of a distraction for you, James,” she purred. “I’ll go and await breakfast in bed.” 

The toast popped up from the toaster at the same time as the kettle clicked off from boiling.

“Don’t be too long, mind,” she said. “I have things to do today.”

She gave him the you-can-ask-but-I-won’t-tell look and sauntered back to the bedroom.

It was just a few minutes before James padded to the side of the bed carrying a tray that was propped up above M’s thighs. One cup of tea; one cup of coffee; a plate of brown toast, buttered; two plates with scrambled egg, bacon, sausage and fried mushrooms; and one bright red gerbera in a tall glass of water.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you but I’ll gladly do it again,” she said as she took a sip of tea. She didn’t need to ask, she knew it was for her. James had a bit of a vendetta against tea, something to do with the downfall of the British Empire, and he described it as ‘a cup of mud’. James removed his apron and climbed onto the bed next to her.

“Everything’s organic, free-range and homemade,” James said proudly. “That’s what the woman at the Co-op said anyway.”

Well, at least he was trying. Her husband used to make her breakfast in bed on any day she was available at home to receive it. Tea, toast and orange marmalade every time. And on a special day, like her birthday or their anniversary, he’d cut a flower from their garden and decorate the tray with it. Their anniversary was always when daffodils were in season. She didn’t feel worthy of such affection from her husband and seeing similar behaviour from James made her stir uncomfortably. She sent men to their deaths with no hope of a normal life and yet for her, life was untouched and as typical as could be. James took a crunchy bite out of some toast and brought her back to her senses.

“I didn’t take you as being much of a chef. A hidden talent perhaps?” she ventured.

“I make fucking _amazing_ pancakes. I’ll make those for you tomorrow morning if you like.”

That was highly improbable.

“But first, there’s this new vineyard I want to take you to. They’re doing free wine tasting and you get a fantastic view from their restaurant.” He was smiling. He read her like she was the morning newspaper. “What is it?”

“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to spend the day with you. You’ve kept me so busy recently and I have a few errands to run.” She placed a forkful of scrambled egg I her mouth and seductively slid the fork out from between her lips. Hopefully this would distract him enough so that he wouldn’t be bothered by her absence. She speared a piece of sausage on her fork. “Terribly boring, domestic things. I wouldn’t want to cramp your style.”

“That’s Aberdeen Angus.” He nodded towards her plate, pretending not to hear her. “I know you like a bit of Scottish sausage.”

She placed the chunk of meat between her teeth and let him see as she cut right through it. James feigned being hurt by it and covered his crotch with a hand.

“I’ll be back in the morning though,” she continued as if he hadn’t been an idiot.

“I don’t even get to spend tonight with you?” he sighed incredulously. “I’ll wake up lonely and I’ll miss you and I’ll have to wank furiously over images in my mind of what we did last night.”

He looked at her as if this was a last resort for him and that really he didn’t want to have to force himself to do that. What a load of bollocks, she thought. She just giggled at him and said, “Perhaps.”

They finished breakfast, M giving nothing more away about why she was going AWOL. James got up to remove the tray and the gerbera fell out of its make-shift vase onto the floor. He disappeared into the kitchen as she rolled over and leant down to retrieve the flower and noticed a shoe box under his bed. Curiosity got the better of her and she lifted the lid only to see her own face looking back at her. But her eyes were slightly off centre; she hadn’t known at the time that that photo was being taken.

She righted herself on the bed and placed the opened shoe box on her lap. There were more photos of her inside as well as a few trinkets. Most of the photos seemed to be stills from CCTV footage but there was one of them both sat outside at a café and he would had to have worked damn hard to get that photo from a secure location and into this box. She doubted that he’d let Q help him out. However, she understood why he liked that picture. She looked mesmerised by him, happy, peaceful, and damn it if she didn’t look a day over sixty.

She rummaged through the rest of the contents. There was a battered pamphlet from the British Museum, an empty lemsip packet, the receipt for the hotel they first got together in, and even (she chuckled to herself) the medical report she filled in for him when he came back injured from active service. 

“Candidate shows signs of being overly hot blooded. Imagine that,” James said from the door.

Now he was truly naked. He gave her the whatever-I-am-I'm-yours look. M was shocked, fearful and touched all at the same time.

“You kept all these things." She fanned out some of the photos and saw more of her candid face. Once or twice she's sat at her desk. In another they're walking hand in hand and James is looking right at the camera looking just as happy as her. Her fear gave way to unbridled affection. "Why did you keep all this?”

James shrugged and said nothing but then she didn’t really mean to ask.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M knows that tomorrow is a very important day even if James isn't willing to acknowledge it. She intends to acknowledge it fully and do it in a very sexie way! 
> 
> (Is there any other way?)


	24. Chapter 24

All day. All sodding day and tonight of all nights. M had left James soon after breakfast leaving no clues as to where she was going. All she’d said was “Don’t brood too much,” kissed him on the cheek and walked right out the door. He hated being kept in the dark. It was his instinct to know things. He was half way to following her out the door when he decided that since she didn’t want anything to do with him, he’d stay away and maybe find a new girlfriend. That'd show her. He’d never dream of doing such a thing but he wanted M to suffer as much as he was.

Usually it wouldn’t bother him so much but he’d kidded himself into believing that him and M were a proper couple; it was unheard of to completely and utterly _like_ each other as much as they did. Like. He didn’t mean that but thinking ‘the other thing’, as he called it, made his mind wrench. It was much simpler just to be happy.

Unfortunately, M’s idea of happiness apparently differed to his. In his vision, M was by his side or in his ear or on the end of a phone for everything he went through. Conducting a mission? She’d be there. Going for dinner? She’d be there. Seen an interestingly shaped cloud? She’d be there. 

But late on that evening he was sitting, whisky in hand, home alone, and she _wasn’t_ there. He pictured her sat opposite him with a similar drink and she’d be laughing at one of his stories, head thrown back and giggling. But she wasn’t there. He pictured her chatting to him for hours before falling asleep in his arms. But she wasn’t there.

Bitch.

The clock struck midnight.

James raised a glass to himself and sighed, “happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear James-“

There was a knock at the door. Still not entirely happy he sulked across to the door and peered through the eyehole. It was M and she looked exactly as she had when she left a few hours previously even with a matching mischievous grin. She was fidgeting, clearly eager for him to open the door. He didn’t rush.

“Happy birthday, James,” she smiled. His brooding façade was crumbling fast. “Let me in; I’ve got something to show you.”

“And what if I don’t want to see you? Might have a girl here,” he mocked.

“Then you won’t get your birthday present. And she can join in too, of course.” James tried to hide a smile as he let her in, or more accurately she walked past him without waiting. M placed her bag on the table and peered around as if looking for another person. “You brute; you got me all worked up for nothing.”

She feigned disappointment at it just being the two of them and removed her coat. James had forgotten that M would always win their games no matter how far he pushed it. It was one of the many reasons why he liked her.

“Alright,” he sighed, closing the door, “what have you got me? It had better be good.”

She nodded eagerly, grabbed an envelope from her bag and led him to the sofa. 

“Come on, open it,” she urged. She was sat on the edge of the seat cushion and her legs were bouncing in anticipation. She bit her bottom lip and watched as James tore into the side of the envelope. He revealed several pieces of card.

When he turned them over he felt his heart skip a beat and all of his blood rushed far, far away from his brain.

“Wow.” 

“Are they okay? Moneypenny helped. We made quite a day of it actually. Do you like them?” She said everything very fast as if she was bursting for approval.

“Wow,” he repeated lamely. He was completely stunned. And Moneypenny helped, oh god, he wouldn’t be able to think straight for weeks.

In his hands he held several pictures of Olivia Mansfield but not just any old pictures: sexy pictures, really sexy pictures, pictures for him and only him.

“Is that my-“ he started, pointing at the car over which a scantily clad M was draped. He’d never look at that Aston the same again.

“Yes, we broke into the garage there this afternoon. See the rest!”

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the body of the woman and the body of the car to see the next photograph. She was sat behind her desk, fully clothed at first glance but then he realised that her skirt was much higher than usual. In fact, yes he could, he could see her bare sex peeking out from between her knees. Moneypenny took that picture. He mentally kicked himself for not tailing M out of his place and following her around all day because that’s something he would love to have seen.

In the next photo, M was actually driving his DB5. She looked like she was having the time of her life with the wind in her hair and trees rushing past. He glanced at the sideboard by his front door and foolishly realised several hours too late that M had stolen a set of his car keys. This saucy minx was driving him wild.

The next few pictures were taken in M’s bedroom with M in various poses and different outfits, and just one with nothing on at all. They were all tasteful and artistic rather than vulgar, but then his boundaries were very different to most people. If anyone else saw these photos then they may not agree.

“And that’s not all,” she said excitedly.

She pounced up from the sofa and picked up a large box, gift wrapped in purple paper. 

James still hadn’t recovered from the shock of what he had in his hands. This was not a young, nubile woman but by god was she sexy. He decided that M needed to hurry up with whatever she was doing because he was moments away from tearing her clothes off and taking her right where she stood.

M handed him the box which he rapidly unwrapped. It was a camera.

“I think it’s about time that that shoe box of yours had some photos that were taken with the subject’s knowledge. There are already a couple on there actually.”

James switched it on and saw that the first couple of photos were of Moneypenny. He imagined M taking out the camera and testing it on the first person she saw which just so happened to be his colleague who had seen god knows what earlier that day. 

But then there were a couple of photos that M had evidently taken by herself without help. One of her breasts; one of her cheekily nibbling on the end of her finger and giving him bedroom eyes; and one of (he physically groaned) her fingers placed inside a wet pussy.

He stared nonplussed at the images and reminded himself to keep breathing. For some unknown reason he was struggling to concentrate.

“Right, let’s go,” he cried. He stood up and kept hold of the camera then picked up his jacket and M’s coat.

“Where are we going?”

“To the Aston. I’ve got some pictures to take.”

James mentally finished his song, “Happy birthday to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucky, lucky boy.
> 
> Lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky, _lucky_ boy...
> 
> And he's about to get a whole lot luckier!


	25. Chapter 25

James tugged the garage doors closed behind him and eyed up M as she sat back against the bonnet of his vintage car. She had a sassy smirk on her face which invited him closer and that was his first picture.

“I want you to take your clothes off and show me what you did earlier,” he slurred.

“Really? All by myself? You won’t give me a hand?”

“No,” he chimed. “If I did this would all be over too soon.”

What he meant was he was likely to come in an instant if he touched her. He would enjoy savouring the moment.

M shrugged off her coat and folded it in her arms before carefully placing it on the floor. As she started unbuttoning her shirt, torturously slow, James took a step towards her and thought about every photo he wanted to take. He wanted to remember her just as she was in this moment: sassy, sensual, simpering and happy. Their adventurous sex life was a huge perk to him and, considering her history, it must have been just as important to her.

M turned around to shimmy out of her underwear and resumed her relaxed position on the car.

It was just a few seconds before she couldn’t hold back the shivers and James realised just how cold this room probably was. Only now did it occur to him that she was actually asking for his body heat rather than his attention when she asked for him to help her undress. He was fully clothed and hot under the collar. That could soon be fixed.

“Christ,” he sighed. “Sorry, Oli.”

He rushed off his jacket and placed it around her with a strong squeeze.

“Thank you, James. I was hoping you’d take the hint but then you always did run head first into things. And yes, I _am_ talking about your cock.”

He wasn’t listening. She was dwarfed by his jacket and as she held it tightly around her waist he couldn’t help but compose a scenario in his mind. He wanted to take her to the theatre and as they wandered home he would put his jacket over her shoulders and stroll back taking the longer route. And he would ask her to look in the inside pocket and she would pull out a jewellery box. Then she’d smile and cry and maybe even love him.

He stepped away from her to take a photograph of her clasping tightly to his jacket. 

“Okay, now turn around and bend over as far as you can,” he said.

James crouched down. M thoughtfully tugged the jacket higher so he could see her perfectly formed arse and he sneaked another shot.

“Would it help if I did this?” she asked sweetly. M reached her arms back and spread her cheeks so that James could just about see nirvana. “I thought about doing this with Moneypenny this afternoon but I chickened out. I didn’t think she’d want to be scarred by an old lady’s fanny.”

“How wrong you were,” James growled. He thought more about where his tongue would dive and where his fingers would stroke before he took another photo. 

“I still feel frightfully underdressed, James. Perhaps some extra body heat would liven up those photos.”

Placing the camera down, he slipped off his shoes, unbuttoned his shirt and removed every inch of clothing mostly to prove how hard he was in the cold weather. The evening chill was barely noticeable when you had this woman to light a fire under you. 

“You can keep the jacket on.” James prowled towards her, only remembering the camera at the last second. He slid one hand up the side of her body and pushed his body against her so the jacket would stay wrapped around her and her arms would be free to roam. 

She chose to slide her arms down his and seize the camera.

“My turn,” she warned.

Cheeky mare. James leaned down and teased her nipple with his teeth. She squirmed away from him and readied the camera.

“Should I pose like this?” he teased, leaning back across the bonnet as lavishly and with all the femininity he could muster. It might have looked very ladylike had it not been for the giant erection sticking up in the middle of the photo.

“I think you should get in the car,” suggested M. “Driver’s side.”

He didn’t mind getting his kit off but he hadn’t even thought that M might be that kind of voyeur. If he was ever in a foreign country for an extended length of time he was going to love imagining M using photos of him to masturbate to. It was unlikely she would use them to create modern art and splash them across her walls on a giant canvas. Although, if he caused too much trouble then that’s exactly what she might do.

He climbed into the driver’s seat and M sat next to him.

“One hand on the door, the other on the gear stick,” she ordered. “Don’t mess up this beautiful trim no matter what might happen to you.”

James exhaled a long breath through his nose and returned M’s deviant look. She leaned over and started to stroke his shaft with the arm closest to him and lined up the camera with the other. He tightened his grip on the gear stick as her hand slowed down and he found himself squirming in the chair.

“You’ll make it blur and then I’ll have to try again,” she said sweetly. “Do try and stay still.”

It was agony to not be able to thrust roughly into the pressure but the moment she stopped to take a photo he was ready to cry out and damn it all, just have it and be done. He leant his head back over the seat and let pleasure envelop him.

M removed her hand.

“I was enjoying that,” he muttered.

Without saying a word, M replaced her hand with her mouth and James let out a simultaneous moan and laugh. Now it was his turn to take back the camera. M freely let him take it; he lifted it up high and took a photo of M’s head bobbing up and down on his cock. It came out blurry but that couldn’t be helped. He rested one hand on the back of her head and groaned at every suck.

He thought desperately about how he really didn’t want to come. It would either ruin his jacket or ruin the upholstery and they would both be expensive to rectify. He hoped it would mostly get on the jacket and then the car might just need a wipe down. Again, he laughed and moaned; who thinks about cleaning at a time like this?

With very little warning his orgasm grew but as he tried to lift M off of him she resolutely held herself in place and drank down every spurt he had to offer. Well that solves that problem, he mused. 

“That’s birthday orgasm number one,” M simpered as she licked her lips. “How many years old are you now?”

“Forty-four.” Christ, he hoped that meant she’d be going for forty-four orgasms in a day. It’d probably kill him but what a way to go.

“And you will be for many years to come, I imagine. So be it.”

“Is it just my orgasms that count on this tally?”

“That’s to be decided.” M daringly widened her legs.

“Then let’s find out.”

They created several more photos for their mutual enjoyment. From his position he couldn’t do more than hand stuff but he was an educated man; he only needed a finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forty-five is mandatory retirement age for double-oh agents according to Fleming which is why he will forever say he's forty-four. 
> 
> M would probably hire him as a sex slave though so it's not like he'd be leaving the service. In fact, he'd probably get a bit more servicing done!
> 
> (Oh dear, just ignore me...)


	26. Chapter 26

M was a little afraid that when they finally got back home to bed in the early hours of the morning James might want another round but thankfully he was just as exhausted as she was.

She woke up shortly before eleven and set herself to making James a birthday breakfast in bed: simple toast and coffee. He wasn’t exactly a morning person. M returned to the bedroom with the same tray James spoiled her with previously and watched his bleary eyes follow her across the room wearing nothing but one of his shirts.

“All these years I’ve hated my birthday,” he yawned. “If only I knew what I was missing.”

M kissed him on the cheek and got to eating breakfast. They didn't talk much but they hadn't really recovered from their night time activities. She would be due in the office for an hour or so after lunch, which James knew about, but he was still reluctant to let her go.

“But you went in yesterday when you weren’t supposed to,” he whined. “Doesn’t that count?”

“You know very well that was not business and was all pleasure. The world isn’t going to stop turning just because you want to get your end in,” she said. He folded his arms and stayed under the bed covers, not willing to see her out the door. “It won’t be long before I’m back here and cooking dinner for you, okay?”

“No,” he snapped like a petulant child. “I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“But it’s your-“

“My birthday, my rules.”

They locked eyes, neither wanting to be the first to give in. James would be stubborn to the last. She had everything packed and was ready to leave and become the ball-busting boss many feared her to be. That made it so much harder for her to concede defeat.

“Fine,” she scowled. It wasn’t _fine_ but he’d never have given up. “If I _must_ be spoiled rotten this evening then I suppose I can endure it for tonight.”

She was out the door before he could come out with some kind of witty, derogatory remark. 

In the car that had been sent for her she smiled to herself. As irritating as his manner was, it warmed her to know that what made James happy was making her happy. Her husband was the same. _What do you want to do? - Whatever_ you _want to do!_ She was such an absent wife in body and mind that he probably wanted to connect with her in any way he could. If her husband hadn’t been so selfless then their marriage would have fallen apart.

James was always searching for connections, no doubt due to the death of his parents when he was a boy. He harboured a need to please, a need to be in control, and sometimes a need to be controlled. Today he wanted to be the one in control and M was quite happy to let him.

*

“Just one more thing, Ma’am. I need your approval on new members of Q Branch. It shouldn’t take long.”

Tanner’s constant parlay of “Just one more thing…”, “I forgot to mention…”, “Would you mind taking a look at…” was taking a lot longer than he seemed to suggest. M was already over an hour later than she’d hoped to be.

“Can it wait?” she started. “I’m not sure it was entirely necessary to go into such great depth over the appropriate length of a lunch break for the admin staff so forgive me if I seem disbelieving of your assessment that it ‘won’t take long’.”

There was no point in hiding her displeasure. Soon it’d be eating into her time that was scheduled for James.

“It could,” he grimaced, “but what with the incidents in both Cairo and Istanbul we could do with getting them in as soon as possible really. Can I get you a cup of tea before we start?”

If she didn’t know any better, she would have suspected that Tanner was trying to keep her here for as long as possible.

“No, thank you. You seem like an intelligent man; I trust your judgement.” She gathered her things and put her coat on. “See you tomorrow.”

As she swept from her office she didn’t have time to see the blush tingeing Tanner’s cheeks.

*

The drive home seemed to take much longer than it had earlier that day. She was running home to her boyfriend like a love sick teen. Just a year ago she would have gladly stayed with Tanner and discuss every inch of Six’s policies that needed amending and now? She was ashamed, as if it tarnished her husband’s character. What was it, a week? Two? Before she fell into bed with another man. Her husband’s body would still have been warm.

It all seemed a bit quick now that she thought about it. Her daughters would be horrified but they didn’t have to know. And with everything James had gone through was he rushing too fast into this just to prove he was still human? To absolve the guilt that took so many women from his bed and into their graves? She was almost at her grave; perhaps that was the attraction.

Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that this meant something more to James. She had to know.

The car pulled up at the foot of James’ apartment rather than her own and as the driver opened the door for her she heard a voice shouting from behind, “Come on then, mardy arse! Get in!”

James was in his favourite grey suit with a purple tie and was leaning against his Aston which was handily parked right outside the front door. M’s driver waited for her to say it was safe to leave before James came over to her.

“We’re on a tight schedule here. Dinner at six and in the theatre for eight.”

The last time she went to the theatre was… She’d rather not think about it.

“Can’t I get changed first?”

“Into what?”

M hummed her concern. She looked up at the apartment building and realised that there was nothing in James’ apartment that would be suitable for her to wear. Not in public anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tanner is a teensy bit jealous but he won't get a look in. Poor boy...


	27. Chapter 27

“Don’t you ever just have a night in? Many people are quite content to put their feet up with a cup of tea and put Corrie on.” M had managed to force James into going via her place (it was on the way after all) to let her get changed before eating but she’d had ten minutes and not a second longer. They’d had Italian for dinner and M suspected that James only wanted to go to that particular restaurant to show off how well he knew the head waiter. The food was certainly nothing to write home about. James was now parking up at great expense as close to the theatre as possible. “Perhaps you believe that if you stop for a moment you might spontaneously combust.”

“Plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead,” he sang. “In our profession that may not be very long so I need to fit life in whilst I still can.”

“Who knew you were the sensitive type, eh?” M mumbled to herself.

She loved the theatre; it was like an extension of herself. Secrets, lies, pretending to be someone else; it was like a safe version of her job which made the resulting excitement even more enjoyable.

James displayed his tickets to the usher.

“If you’d just like to go through those doors, your box is the second on the left.”

He’d even got box seats. She shouldn’t be surprised but she rolled her eyes anyway. Who was he trying to impress? This was the kind of first date extremism that got you a shag and he was well aware that the stakes were much lower between them now. James sensed her scepticism.

“I can’t sit you next to a tramp in the cheap seats. You’re too…”

He shook his head as he searched for a word. They were alone in the box now and M stood waiting for an answer before she sat. It was fun to watch him stumble.

“Old? Decrepit? Ghastly?”

“You’re just,” he started, but rather than finding a suitable word he leaned over to embrace her and bring her closer to him. He hung there in the moment for a while, breathing her in. He was snug and warm and only let her go when he was ready. 

“… indescribable,” he finished.

“Try.”

Every moment he was lost for words was a win for M. James was always on top of his game but she had a certain effect on him and it made her feel so alive to see him come undone. James moved towards his seat but M resolutely stayed stood still. She raised an eyebrow.

“Intelligent,” he said smiling, “witty, cunning, beautiful.” He stepped towards her and swept her up into a strong kiss. “And eminently fuckable.”

“Correct.”

As they sat down James’ hand sought out hers and his thumb was stroking the top of her fingers. M tried to flick through the programme with her free hand. Mike Leigh’s _Abigail’s Party_ , her favourite. How did he know these things? Or was it an incredibly lucky guess? She’d seen it advertised a few months before. It was a one off performance with a whole host of the finest British acting talent and naturally the tickets were sold out weeks ago. M looked inquisitively at James. She’d give anything to live inside that head for a day. He lifted her hand to his lips and left a light kiss on her knuckles just as the lights went down.

She half expected him to be bored out of his mind but he was ever the gentleman and seemed at least mildly interested the whole way through. He didn’t have a sleep, and he didn’t try and fondle her in the darkness although she did catch him looking at her rather than the stage a few times. _This boy has got it bad_ , she thought.

When they left the theatre M headed towards James’ car but he tugged her in the opposite direction.

“Let’s walk it. It’s a mild night,” he proffered. M’s distasteful look said it all. “My birthday, my rules, remember!”

“Well if you’d told me that earlier then I would have worn sensible shoes,” she moaned. Her feet would be fine but she didn’t want to give him any satisfaction. “And this dress is hardly a winter warmer.” 

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

Like hell he hadn’t. She wasn’t ashamed that this dress made her breasts the centre of attention and there wasn’t a chance that James had ignored them.

“Alright then, you grumpy mare,” he jokingly conceded. “Take this.”

James shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. He not entirely accidentally left his arm around her as they walked and he kissed her hair.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “Always the gentleman.”

She could be as grumpy as she liked and yet he consistently treated her with the utmost respect. He was still a sarcastic bastard but she’d be worried if he wasn’t. He was more docile, more pliable, more obedient and the cause of his personality change was a toss-up between M or him simply being happy. She never remembered him being truly happy in England; not for this length of time anyway. Once the death of his parents robbed him of a childhood he seemed determined to never be happy again. But as she peered across to him in the night and listened to him humming a tune as he walked, there was no other word for it. This was a blissfully contented man. His brain must be a whirlpool of crossed wires that feel the pain for some things and not others. Lots of her agents had the ability to switch off in order to protect their souls from damage but for the first time, M was responsible for the soul as well as the body. And his heart.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked. She was genuinely curious.

“You don’t want to know,” he chuckled.

“Please. You’re unfathomable. I’d like you to let me in.” M kept plodding forwards, determined not to look him in the eyes in case she pushed too hard.

“Alright,” James sighed. “I’m wondering how you’re going to react when you see what I’ve got you inside that pocket of my jacket.”

“Oh,” she said limply. “You don’t really understand the concept of birthdays, do you?”

She stopped walking in order to rummage in the pockets of the jacket wrapped around her shoulders. James wore a slight smile but his eyes gave nothing away. M reached her hand deep inside and drew out a small jewellery box, a very smell jewellery box. 

She cocked it open and lost her breath at the first glistening diamond.

“This is a ring, James,” she said carefully. “A very expensive, diamond ring that usually serves a certain purpose but we-“

“Don’t get any ideas,” he said quietly. He took the box from her and stood directly in front of her, proud and tall. He removed the ring from the box and held it over the tip of her middle finger on her left hand. “This is a promise ring.”

M felt her heart start beating again.

“I promise that I will do my best to come back to you no matter what. No matter where I am, what I’m doing, I will always come back to you.”

“James-“

“You need to know that if I don’t come back it’s because I can’t, not because I won’t. You’re the reason I come back. Do you understand?” She nodded before he continued, " You’re _every_ reason for everything I do."

Her eyes were hot and wet. What he was really saying was something he had left unsaid.

“I know, James. I understand.”

He slid the perfectly sized ring over her middle finger until it lay snugly beside her tarnished wedding ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I told you this was the fluff one! James has so much more fluff buried deep inside as well.
> 
> This fic is about to hit 2000 views which is insane. I hope you're still enjoying it and if there's anything in particular you'd like to see then I'd love to hear your ideas!


	28. Chapter 28

M felt a cold chill that had nothing to do with the weather. Perhaps it was the ghost of her husband come to haunt her for what she’d done. The new glistening ring with a circle of diamonds sat boastingly next to her plain gold band that she’d worn for more years than she cared to remember. She had never lost it and only took it off to have it widened once or twice. The diamonds mocked her and laughed at her foolish marriage. Had he deserved an absent wife?

She was lost in thought. James’ expectant smile battered down the last vestiges of her armour and her tortured soul came pouring out. Tears flowed as she clutched James’ jacket tightly around her shoulders.

“I miss him, James,” she sobbed. “I really miss him.”

James stepped in to hold her close. Her tear-filled eyes couldn’t see James’ fear and instead she felt safe and, as much as she hated herself for it, loved. He held her there for what seemed like hours but in reality was only seconds before pulling back from her.

“Come on,” he said quietly into her ear. “Let’s get you home.”

He hailed a taxi kept one arm clamped around her like she was caught in a vice. He started directing the driver to M’s apartment.

“No,” she sniffed. “That’s not home for me any more.”

It ceased to be her home the moment her husband died and left her alone in there. It wasn’t a home for her children and it certainly wasn’t a comfort to her. It was nothing more than a building with a bed, which she gladly left each day for the security of work.

“Ok. Anything you ask,” he said. James gave the directions for his flat and let M rest her head against his shoulder.

He was probably having some sort of heart attack now, thinking that she wanted to live with him. It wasn’t that. Hopefully he would understand; she needed a place that was untainted with memories. 

*

James unlocked his door and ushered M inside but she was an idle fool and had no idea what to do with herself.

“I’m sorry for ruining your birthday,” she mumbled. She pulled off his jacket and handed it back to him.

“Really?” He looked at her sceptically. “Last year I was being tortured in a dank basement by some drug baron in Tokyo. The year before that I was in hospital being told I was never going to walk again. Christ, I turned eleven and my parents died the next week. As birthdays go, this was without a doubt my absolute best.”

She felt a familiar pang of guilt. “I forgot that today we’re both reminded of loved ones we’ve lost,” she said. James stood flush in front of her and surveyed her for a moment before lifting her chin up to look at him. 

“Today is not the best birthday because of lost loved ones,” he stroked his palm across her cheek, “but because of a loved one I’ve found.” He pressed a kiss to her temple and led her to the sofa.

Without M realising it, time irrelevant, James had already poured them each a glass of scotch and was sitting next to her. One drink would be enough to abandon the numb growth swelling inside of her but she wasn’t ready to be absolved yet. She put the drink down and lay her head in James’ lap. He sipped at his own drink and twiddled with M’s hair.

“Did you know that the last time I went to the theatre was the day before he died?”

“No,” James said darkly. He downed what was left of his glass.

“It was the last time I properly saw him, the last amount of quality time we ever spent together before I swept off back to Six again the next morning.” She was crying silently now and trying not to stifle her grief. “He kissed my knuckles before the curtain went up, just like you did tonight, and I actually remember thinking _‘give it a rest, we’re too old for romance’_. He didn’t deserve someone like me. Someone so fucking cold.”

She didn’t bother to wipe her tears away and let them fall onto James’ trousers. He stroked her hair and squeezed her that little bit tighter. M imagined she heard him sniff too.

“I’m going to love you even if you won’t let me.” He leant down and kissed her face. “I’ll give you tonight for your grief but tomorrow we’re going to walk proudly into Six and you’ll prove to be the formidable woman I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with.”

What was there about her to love? Why did honest, unsuspecting men keep loving her when the only outcome was heartbreak?

“I don’t know why,” she sighed. A small voice told her to end it and get out now whilst James still had a chance for a happy life but he’d never accept that. Neither would she. Whatever she’d gone through to get to this place in her life, it was bearable. Only the future was worthy of fear and even then she wasn’t going to give in and let that beat her when she’d come so far.

“Give me time and I’ll show you exactly why. But first I’m going to run you a bath and then you’re going to fall asleep in my arms and wake up to a brand new day. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

M rolled over to look at him properly. “Thank you, James.”

“Unless you need to take a shit. You’ve got a number of years left in you until you need my help wiping your arse,” he smirked. “So I’ll be with you _almost_ every step of the way.”

Somehow through her grief she managed to laugh at him. Trust James to ruin a golden moment.

*

As M dipped her toe into the hot, silky water, it occurred to her that James still didn’t know she loved him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's always such a cheeky shit but then he'd do anything to make her laugh.


	29. Chapter 29

“You leave for Dong Hoi this evening. Q will sort you out with the particulars.” M leaned across her desk and turned to not-so-sharply-dressed man in her office. “Anything else, Mr Tanner?”

“No, Ma’am,” he nodded. He turned to the exquisitely tailored gentleman next to him, “although I know Q is quite keen to see you before this one. Lord knows what they’ve been up to down there.”

“Thank you, gentlemen. Good luck 007.” She gestured for them to leave hoping that they would recognise the dismissal. 

James opened the door to politely let Tanner walk through first but rather than following him, he shut the door and remained with M.

“That was quick,” he huffed, dumping himself unceremoniously in the seat he had recently vacated.

“Yes, well, _you_ are not enough to stop world spinning. Bad men will do bad things to our country and it’s your duty to stop it,” she said sternly. “No matter how horny you are.”

“I had such plans for you tonight,” he muttered. 

“Unfortunately for you, Vietnam requires your services. _I_ don’t.” She opened up yet another file and glanced through the report. The situation was much worse than they’d realised and the reams of reports seemed never ending. She had no time for his cheek. “You’re free to go.”

James didn’t move.

“You really don’t want to know?”

“Q is waiting for you,” she quipped, not bothering to look up from the papers. James stuffily crossed his arms.

“He can wait. But apparently so can you,” he sulked. 

She put her hands on her desk and looked pointedly at him. “Is there something I can help you with? You are not some sort of errant puppy; you’re a big boy who can look after himself. I can’t readily give you my attention every second of every day no matter how much you sulk. Do you understand?”

She took his silence to mean ‘yes’ and carried on rifling through reports until she found what she wanted.

“I was going to take you to the Winter Ball,” he smiled. Christ, it’s like he wasn’t even listening. “Me in a tux, you in that red gown that matches the ruby necklace you got on your wedding anniversary, dinner and dancing. Hard to resist really.”

“Hard to resist me or you?”

“I’m flattered that you think there’s an option.”

She released a long sigh and in that moment James had won.

“What do you want, James?”

“To show off my language skills,” he smirked. M raised an eyebrow and waited for him to explain his imminent little joke. “I want to show you that I’m a cunning linguist.”

M rolled her eyes. “If you spent more time at the shooting range and less time gossiping with Miss Moneypenny I imagine my work schedule would be halved. Not to mention, you might finally be able to outshoot an old woman.”

She giggled. They’d visited the shooting range together a couple of times, mostly so M could prove to him that she had actually pulled a trigger before. They’d had a little competition on their first visit and M had won easily assuming that James had let her win. However, James insisted they go again and much to his dismay she won their little game again. She never let him take her there any more considering those two instances to be something less than a lucky streak. It was a bit of a sore point to him so she tried not to bring it up. Often.

James’ eyes narrowed. “Change of plan,” he snarled.

He strode across the room and leant back against her desk in front of her. He tugged at her wrists until she stood flush against him and pressed a deep kiss to her lips.

“I really don’t have time-“ she started but James continued to kiss her and made her hand brush against his tented trousers.

“I don’t care,” he mouthed against her lips, sucking and kissing every bit of skin he could find. M absent-mindedly gave his crotch a squeeze and felt a familiar stirring inside her. “I need to have you one more time before I leave in case I don’t come back. Then I can die happy.”

M consciously squeezed harder and fumbled with his zip. When his cock sprang out she palmed it gently and wondered why James hadn’t yet given her sex any attention. She tried to make one of his hands slide up her thigh but his superior strength meant that she couldn’t budge them from her waist. After a few more strokes of his cock she removed her hand completely. If she wasn’t getting any then neither was he.

“Now who’s sulking?” he taunted. Gratefully, he knelt down, undid her trousers and pulled them right off her legs along with her knickers. She sat on the edge of her chair and ran her fingers through his cropped blonde hair.

James used his thumbs to spread her lips apart and took a moment to admire the folds before him. He dipped his tongue against her clitoris and she squirmed. 

“So fucking gorgeous,” he whispered. 

After a few steady licks he added a finger to the party and teased her by gently moving in and out just with the tip. The walls of her entrance throbbed begging him to go deeper but it was minutes before he obliged. When he added a second finger he started fisting himself at the same time, which only increased M’s breathy moans from above him.

He withdrew his fingers and made a point of sucking off every bit of her cream. Then he roughly picked her up from the chair and sat her on her desk so that his cock was at just the right height. He pushed his trousers down his thighs and rested the tip of his cock against her entrance, whilst wildly kissing her mouth.

Every few seconds he would push his crotch closer to her and edge inside her. M let out a gentle moan at each thrust and waited for the moment when he would be fully sheathed. 

Once he was inside and thrusting back and forth, M automatically moved her hand to rub against her clit. James grabbed her wrists and forced them to stay away from pleasuring herself and her indignant squirms made no difference to him. From this position she’d be able to get close to release but never actually orgasm.

“Jaaaames,” she moaned like a whiny schoolgirl. He gave her a feral grin and continued to pound into her, feeling his own release growing.

“Please, James,” she moaned. “Please, I can’t- I can’t…”

But he didn’t seem to care that she couldn’t come like this. He held her thighs and pounded harder and faster. When the seminal moment arrived he slammed hard into her and swore.

“Fuck, Oli,” he shouted. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” each emphasised with another slam into her aching pussy. 

Her walls throbbed desperately around him, which only got worse when he withdrew himself completely, cleaned himself up and put his trousers back to rights. She stared incredulously at him as she tried to ignore the frantic need to come that he had created within her.

“You can’t leave me like this,” she cried, come leaking out of her.

James reached for her left hand and kissed the ring he had given her the day before.

“At least now you know that I have to come back,” he grinned.

He left a chaste kissed on her temple and hurried out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of the shooting range may well become a separate fic. Needless to say, M didn't win through raw talent and may have had Q branch on her side...
> 
> But until then... PORN!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five Short Pictures of M

“006, get after him!”

“But Ma’am, I really think-“

“I said go!”

M shouted as if 006’s ear piece couldn’t hear every breath. The whole room was on high alert as 006 waited outside a burning building in Dong Hoi that James was apparently trapped inside of.

“If Bond has done his job then going in now would destroy the cover he’s taken weeks to create,” she heard him cry. “If I move now we’ll both be shot to shit and there won’t be another way to do this!”

M held a steely glance with Tanner.

“Ma’am?” she heard again through the ear piece. “Ma’am? M!”

“Stay where you are,” Tanner ordered. “Wait for them to come to you and by then we should know Bond’s situation and you can determine how best to deal with them if Bond hasn’t already.” 

The room started to spin. M threw off the headset as 006 drawled, “that’s more like it,” and powered straight to the toilets down the hall where she could run water from the cold tap across her wrists.

*

Mallory stood in front of her, swirling a scotch in the glass before him. His diminished behaviour did not reflect the scolding that M was expecting and it was a sign that something far worse was coming.

“Time’s up, M,” he confessed. “When the current mission is over you will take voluntary retirement and-“

“Like hell I will,” she jeered. She shot a gritty glare at him determined to win the dog fight.

“You’ve had an unusually long tenure. No one can deny that you have been a great credit to the service but now-“

“Now I’m being put out to pasture like all the other old cows. Yes, I understand. Thank you for your help old girl but now it’s time to let the big boys play.”

She didn’t remember saying anything at all but she had gotten to her feet and was adamantly standing her ground. 

Her complete failure to make a decision in the heat of battle was not something she had ever experienced before. It was obvious that 006 shouldn’t have run in guns blazing but James was in danger. She had a total lack of judgement and wasn’t entirely convinced that her aging body would hold up to this kind of job much longer.

Mallory was right. But it didn’t make her hate him any less.

“You know that’s ridiculous. You’ve been the most successful head of MI6 on record. Gender doesn’t come into it.”

“Oh really? And who’s going to be replacing me?”

Mallory’s sheepish look told her everything she needed to know.

“Ah,” she chimed. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the PM.”

She gathered her things and strode towards the door, her heart breaking every step.

“M?” Mallory stood right behind her staring at her with a look of pure pity. She turned and stopped in her tracks, wanting to stay as much as she wanted to leave. “You will be missed.”

He reached over and clasped her tightly to his body in a strong embrace. It briefly flickered through her mind that this was just a power play to him but the tight hug betrayed her and she couldn’t hide her fear any more. 

“What will I do?” she asked. 

She genuinely needed an answer.

*

The mission would be over in a day or two, although not much thanks to her. She gave Tanner the lead from the moment she left that room and she hadn’t troubled to take it back. What if she made another mistake and in doing so cost James his life?

M lay fully clothed on top of her bed, staring at the ceiling and tracing the patterns with her eyes.

No more MI6. No more secrets. Soon the newspaper headlines would be alien to her. And what of James? She wouldn’t know where he was or how long he’d be gone for or if he was even alive. She’d be sick with worry and would probably shorten her life considerably. 

There was a suitcase laid open next to her with a skirt and a couple of tops strewn inside.

It was a joke, a sick joke. She had laughed away every sign of age and never actually considered a life after her job. Sometimes she’d pictured herself dying in action but it seems she is one of the few lucky people to ever reach retirement. Nobody had really done it before so there wasn’t exactly a manual on what she was supposed to do next.

“Lucky? Pah!” she spat.

In her right hand she clutched a photo that James had taken of them both when they were undeniably happy. Whatever had happened over god knows how many years of service, she had gotten _him_ right at least and that was something to be proud of. For the first time in her life, relationships were easy and her job was a minefield. 

Ignoring every sensible voice in her head, she filled her suitcase and fled.

*

Tanner attended her office the next morning expecting to outline what was needed to tie off the mission and ultimately be able to call back 006 and 007 for debriefing.

Moneypenny wasn’t sat outside so he knocked politely before gently pushing open the door. 

A tray lay on her desk with a half full decanter on top next to a used and empty glass. A folder lay open on her desk with a biro haphazardly scattered across the page. The empty desk chair pointed towards the open window and a vase of what were once fresh flowers lay wilting on the sill. 

Just as it had been the night before.

Tanner called anyone and everyone, sent search teams, and even sent out a cable for kidnap. By the end of the day it was concluded that she hadn’t been kidnapped, but CCTV and a photocopy of her passport told him that she had boarded a plane which headed first to Singapore and at that very moment she was checking in to board another flight.

The second flight’s destination was Vietnam.

*

James Bond returned to London three weeks after 006 to meet the new head of the service. No doubt the first question would be “where the bloody hell have you been?”

He prowled into the new M’s office and shook Mallory’s hand. As James took a seat he clasped his hands over his knees. Tanner should have begun debriefing him but instead he was transfixed. 

On James’ left hand was a gold ring where he least expected it to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> M will never be happy to settle for a dull life but then that's never going to happen when you're in a relationship with James Bond.


	31. Chapter 31

_The previous night…_

“I guess I can tick her off my list.”

“She was horrified, James. Couldn’t you think of anything better?”

“They wouldn’t let us stay in the same room unless I pretended you were my wife. Would you have preferred the alternative?”

M pulled the familiar bed covers close to and let the warmth envelop her. Three weeks of sun, sea and sex was coming to an end as she had eventually returned to England with James. 

James cocked an eyebrow at her. “See, you couldn’t resist me,” he grinned.

During her illicit flee to Vietnam, James had tried to check them in to a double room in the grottiest hotel he could find in the hope that Six wouldn’t think he would ever stay there. Apparently, he was right but M still hadn’t quite gotten over the ignorant receptionist. Like most people they met, she assumed M was James’ mother and had mercilessly flirted with the latter until James set her straight. The look of disgust was burned into M’s memory.

“I thought she was going to ask for a marriage certificate. _The ring’s in for cleaning,_ ” she mocked. “It’s gold for Christ’s sake. Who does that?”

“I’ve never been in a position to know,” he shrugged.

James idly stroked his fingers up and over her shoulders as he giggled about their time away.

“You can laugh now but Mallory’s going to have your head on a platter tomorrow!”

He chuckled again. “I’m not going to last very long in the job if he can’t handle three weeks of absconding. My record was something like 3 months before you managed to catch up with me. Best three months of my life,” he sighed.

“Cheeky bugger. There’ll be no blow jobs for you.”

James feigned being struck at the heart, “Right where it hurts. I’d hate to think you were controlling me with sex.”

She hummed. “Perhaps I have a different dictionary to you because you seem to love it.”

James took hold of the bed covers and threw them to the end of the bed. It instantly slowed their repartee. M’s body was on show for him and he drank in every inch. It was that incessant hunger that really held her attention. His eyes would drift across each section of her body and if she was lucky his mouth would follow. 

She didn’t move as he slid the back of his knuckles across the side of her exposed breast and up her neck. His fingers curled round the back of her head and pulled her lips closer to him so that he might tease her. She pressed her lips towards him but he didn’t return the pressure. She hated it when he wouldn’t give her what she wanted. 

“I have something to ask you,” he whispered.

“Only if you’ll kiss me,” she murmured.

“You might not want to kiss me once I’ve asked.”

She noticed his hands had stopped moving over her body. He was still.

“What?” she eyed him suspiciously.

“It’s something I’d like to do with you.”

“If it’s what I think you’re asking then you already know my answer. Things are supposed to come out of that hole; they aren’t supposed to go in,” she said stubbornly.

“Not that,” James said as he rolled his eyes. “Although it is something you may be uncomfortable with. I’m not really sure.” 

“Spit it out, James.” 

She wasn't used to a shy version of James Bond. She didn’t expect him to ask for anything. For years she thought he was a man who took first and asked questions later. She rolled over to place some of her warmth against him but he didn't respond in kind. He was too tense and distracted so she squeezed his forearm to remind him that she was there.

“You’ll probably laugh anyway,” he huffed, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’d like to make love to you.”

That couldn't be it. They'd done that plenty of times already. They'd done it every way she could think of. Inside, outside, sideways, back to front; once he assured her they could do it with her upside down although his confidence was somewhat misplaced.

“Yes?” she prompted.

He swallowed hard.

“But I’d like to pretend that we’re married,” he said quickly. “Just to know what it feels like. For once.”

M released her breath. “You were married once before.”

“For a day,” he said sternly. “That hardly counts. I just want to experience that kind of closeness," he shrugged, "before it’s too late.” 

It was all rather sudden, she remembered. His wife had been the troubled daughter of a European crime lord and their marriage seemed more like a trade-off for James’ good work than a union of love. Still, he seemed genuinely interested.

“Well, usually you go to bed early, fake a headache and when he doesn’t take no for an answer you lie back and think of England until he’s done,” she scoffed, not entirely lying. 

“Every time?”

“Not at first,” she reasoned. “But then you get comfortable with each other and stop making the effort. For the most part, you’re happy to let them do their thing whilst you mentally plan your way through tomorrow’s meetings. But not at first, no.”

James’ eerie silence gave her too much time to think on her late husband but she refused to succumb to guilt. Her husband wasn't a bad man but there was no way that she could escape the fact that she had been an absent wife. She was never present, even during their closest moments. But that was marriage, wasn't it?

It was as if James was a boy wanting to play at being grown-ups for a night and M was his mother showing him how it was done. He was more of a boy in that second than she had ever seen him. For a wild moment she envisioned a four year old James prancing about in her overly large heeled shoes.

That's when her smile shattered everything.

Without a word of encouragement she slipped out of her bedroom and returned a few seconds later carrying a small box.

“Here,” she proffered. She opened the box and held out a ring for him, one that was far too large for M’s dainty fingers. 

James twirled it between his fingers and as he was about to slide it over his left ring finger he gazed directly at M.

“Are you sure?”

She hoped her smile would tell him everything. She climbed back into bed, onto her back and flashed him her darkest bedroom eyes. He melted at her gaze, rested the ring firmly at the end of his finger and climbed on top of her ready for the most mechanical missionary position their fake marriage would allow.

“Mrs Bond,” he nodded.

Her eyes narrowed.

“ _Mr Mansfield_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've lost all my confidence at writing fiction but I couldn't leave you thinking they'd eloped! They're much too cool for that.
> 
> The previously married bit is a reference to On Her Majesty's Secret Service. I never liked Diana Rigg...
> 
> But then who could ever resist a face like M or Bond's?


End file.
